Star Wars: Moon of Peril
by Ellisaed
Summary: Siri Tachi is hiding a dangerous secret, and young Obi-Wan Kenobi cannot figure out what it is. After an attack on the Temple that wounds them both, and assignment on a mission to the hostile moon responsible for it, a trying chain of events follows that tests the Padawan's relationship with each other and both thier concepts of trust.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Pushing pieces of her medium-length blonde hair behind her ear, Jedi Padawan Siri Tachi focused her clear blue eyes into a magnifying scope, and set them on the substance she was examining; she could smell the different metals and substances sitting in flasks around the small room, her ears filled with the familiar sound of a space radiator.

Siri sat in the only scientific laboratory in the Jedi Temple, which was located just off the Archive Library, which was meagerly used for its lack of necessity to Jedi studies. It was not centrally heated or lighted and was short on basic scientific supplies, but Siri Tachi found herself in it time and again for one reason; she could be alone and connected to the Living Force in the way she most enjoyed it.

Siri poked a thin durasteel stick into the greenish-yellow substance she saw under her magnifier; it had a powder like consistency and glimmered like shimmersilk in the faint laboratory glow lights. Siri received the peculiar substance while investigating the desert planet of Douron, one of the moons of the Thym-Lad-Borat system, in the Outer Rim; she had received it as a parting gift, a token of some sort, from one of the citizens.

"Unique and rare is this gift," he had said, "There is none alike in the entire galaxy that is as precious as this substance, so is there none alike and unique as you, Master Jedi."

Siri re-focused the lens on her magnifier to zoom in closer to the mysterious substance, but it was still not familiar to her in the least. Leaning back in her chair she crossed her legs and pondered.

"Dee-Five-O," Siri said, referring to the primal database droid bustling about the lab, "Take a scan on the origin of this substance."

Using the wheel on its crimson quadrangle base, D-50 rolled over to her, and replied in his tinny voice, "Yes Master Siri."

D-5O extended his thin arm and scooped some of the substance into a flask, pouring it onto the small plate exposed from his front panel. The lights on his torso panel flickered as he scanned the greenish powder, numbers and Aurebesh letters scrolling along in the same rhythm.

"My documents say this is a specimen of powder that is, in some part, a synthetic mineral that has been gently processed and refined to its maximum level of purity, using the process of –"

"Five-O," Siri interrupted, "I'm sure I don't need all the details."

"Oh yes, perfectly right Master. Anyhow, it is made up of precisely fifteen per cent sandstone substances, eighty per cent Radian-"

"Radian?" Siri interrupted sitting upward.

D-5O quivered his head, a droid equivalent of a nod, "Yes Master Siri, but I advise you that this Radian, as you may previously have knowledge of, is an illegal substance on numerous major star systems such as Naboo, Alderaan, Dantooine, and, of course, Coruscant, and is not recommended to be tampered with by human hands-"

Siri grabbed a pinchful of the greenish-yellow substance in her slender fingers, squinted her eyes at the specimen . . . and laughed. She stood to her feet and began to search the old cabinets that held manuscripts written so long ago the flimsiplast was yellow and the ink faded. Siri's quick fingers flipped through the files, her heart racing with excitement.

Siri knew that Radian, named for its radiant luster and shine, was a particularly rare and exceptionally illegal spice. It had been outlawed years before her time because of its lethally damaging effects of organ failure, brain failure, and eventually death, if swallowed.

But long before even then, it was used by the early Jedi Knights as a healing tool for its uncanny ability to tap into the Living Force. If inhaled, not swallowed, Radian had the ability to heal, regenerate, and diminish pain in a suffering life form at the simple activation of the Force, and was a rare and valuable tool to the then developing Jedi Order. However, in Siri's time, Radian was barely known to Jedi; the Order had stopped using it because it was illicit, and Radian was only mentioned in out of date data files and manuscripts. It was an atypical occurrence for Siri to even _see_ this Radian, let alone have the chance to _use_ it . . .

"Um, Master Siri . . ." D-5O mumbled, rolling to the young Jedi's side and noticing her . . . frantic searching, "May I be of assistance?"

"What would happen," Siri started, still searching, "If I used the Force on this specimen Five-O?"

The droid appeared to tremble, his ivory photoreceptors wide . . . or seeming to be.

"Master, I again caution you that influencing this specimen with your Jedi abilities may result in a chemical imbalance and a possible combustion-"

"Combustion?" Siri questioned, surprised at the droids remark.

"Not only of this material, but since you have inhaled this substance . . . of you . . . also."

Siri stared incredulously at the trembling droid, suspecting that whoever put this information in D-5O must have been trying to scare Jedi away from using Radian, "And what if I do not combust?"

D-5O paused, searching his databank, "Ah, since I am only a primal database droid, it seems that my files do not support a . . . suitable answer to you query. . . Master Siri."

Siri smiled, "I thought so."

Studying the substance for only a second more, Siri stood and called on the Force to influence the Radian. The Radian powder sparked into a glow as it rose into the air; it radiated and brightened, shining a green light around the dim room. It rotated in an invisible bubble of Force between Siri's hands, and D-5O mumbled condolences and regrets to himself silently.

Siri focused on the substance with more scrutiny, and she began to slowly feel the healing Radian multiply within her, grow and seem to spread, to thicken and increase . . .

She sensed her cells doing something inexplicable and odd, and she centered her mind on them, and focused . . .

A sudden sensation came upon Siri, a sense she had never felt before, and she dropped the Radian, startled.

Siri's calm feelings seemed to slide away, and she found it difficult to stand; she clutched the desk in front of her for balance, and tried to calm herself. Her mind raced, and a lump set on her throat. Her body began to tremble, in shock and fear and dread.

"What is it, Master Siri?" D-5O crooned, taking notice of his Master's silence.

"Dee-Five-O . . ." Siri said, in a cold, shaky voice; it took all her will to speak. "Get rid of this substance; don't put any of my findings into record."

D-5O seemed to be confused as he rolled to Siri's side and said, "Is there something wrong . . . Master Siri?"

Siri shook her head, "Please do it."

The droid complied, and began to tidy the scattered Radian, still clearly flustered. "Master, if you could, may you examine another substance I have found, for it would be _most_ helpful. . . "

Siri forced a nod to the droid as she walked unsteadily out of the room. And, despite D-5O's request, Siri Tachi never returned to the laboratory again.


	2. Questions

_**(Six months later)**_

**Chapter One** –_**Questions**_

The expanses of the twilight sky spanned and stretched into a supposed dome. It hinted faint pink, pale yellow and faded crimson, layered and smeared across the billowing, low hanging clouds.

The ever-brilliant Coruscant sun was beginning to set against that backdrop, the foreground displaying heavy traffic and towering metallic structures that were decorated with tiny scintillating lights. The scene was like a holoportrait in an art gallery, the splashes of light and shadows, and the sun a creamy orange disk, melting down into the smooth navy horizon.

The sight was indeed mesmerizing to Obi-Wan Kenobi, in the least. He rested his forearm on the wall just above the window and took in a mental photo of the scene from the view of his personal quarters in the Jedi Temple. The window hazed with fog from the heat of his breath, and the scene blurred into obscure colours; Obi-Wan wiped the transparasteel until it cleared.

His eyes no longer focused on the distance, but his own smudged reflection. His eyes smoothly searched his face, the familiarity non-surprising; his lean, tapered nose centered between turquoise eyes, close-cut brown hair, and his Padawan braid dangling over his right ear.

Obi-Wan didn't remember the last time he had gazed at himself in a mirror. The past few weeks had been filled with numerous missions off planet. Just yesterday he had been roaming Naboo, resolving a planetary dispute. Thinking of the stunning sunset while he was away often calmed him and reminded him of the peaceful Jedi Temple, of the serene, tranquil feelings that he only acquired when he spent his time there.

Obi-Wan turned from the transparasteel window, and remembered, reluctantly, what he was supposed to be doing. He glanced sideways at the stack of bookchips balancing askew on his desk.

Studies. He knew his Master would not be pleased to know that he had put them off again. Obi-Wan was fervent to learn, to expand his knowledge and grow in the Force, as like most Padawans his age. He felt the need to meditate on the Force and investigate its many reaches of capabilities for the Jedi, to search its deepest depth, to be immersed into total submission. And although Obi-Wan knew in order to grow he would have to study, somehow, he always seemed to forget.

Obi-Wan took a seat on his sleep couch and folded his legs, sighing deeply and leisurely, as he slipped into the Force, and the state of meditation. He felt the sub-conscious whirl of his tumbling emotions; a kaleidoscope of feelings sliding away into somewhere where they couldn't survive. Into a sense of mind exploding like thousands of supernovas, where the only thing to endure was the Force itself.

Obi-Wan felt his tense and stressed feelings fade, and he began to explore deeper in the Force, blotting out the sounds and senses around him. He began to touch the threshold of the Force that was so strong, deep and endless; he would become unaware and unconscious; much like sleep, but deeper and more unexplainable.

The Force felt bottomless; it expanded and shrank in an offbeat rhythm, in a song without words, or any sound at all. And just as he were to slip away, three loud bangs interrupted his thought, and he fell from the Forces grip and became aware again.

The noises startled him out of meditation so suddenly that he jerked and fell from his sleep couch, hitting his forearm hard on his desk and sending his stack of bookchips tumbling down on top of him.

"Obi-Wan!?" A voice called from the opposite side of his chamber door, accompanied by harsh knocking, "Obi-Wan . . . !"

Obi-Wan rubbed his tender elbow as he arose, labeling his clumsiness as nuisance as he sauntered over to the door. Pressing the keypad, the door slid open, revealing the silhouette of sixteen-year old Padawan Adriyn Gain.

At first glance, it seemed Obi-Wan was looking upon the face of a child, the wide-eyed face of the mischievous boy Obi-Wan had befriended as a Padawan. Obi-Wan had always wondered why a rambunctious eleven-year-old kid like Adriyn had found interest in such a by-the-book, willful twelve-year-old apprentice as himself. But somehow, similarities bloomed between them and, amazingly enough, the two had become close friends.

Though he wasn't a young boy anymore, Adriyn's face had never matured or hardened like many youth's his age did; his bright eyes and boyish features had stayed, as childlike and beautiful as ever. Not a freckle stained his fair skin, but only soft smile lines that appeared at the corner of his eyes and mouth when he grinned. Adriyn's hair grew in thick, curly tufts atop his head, the reddish-brown colour of that of a guji fruit at its peak of freshness. His eyes, wide and cheerful, were the shade of the gujis stem, the smooth olive tinged with flecks of brown.

Adriyn stood with his arms folded across his leather tunic covering, its auburn color causing his already auburn hair to brighten. He grinned boyishly at Obi-Wan, his eyes widening with annoyance.

"It sounded like you tripped over a bantha in there, Obi." Adriyn remarked.

Obi-Wan forced a smile, slightly annoyed by his nickname, "Not quite."

"Are you ready for the Council meeting?" Adriyn uttered, using his long legs to stride into Obi-Wan's room.

Obi-Wan followed after him, sauntering over to his closet to retrieve his robe. "I was never informed of any meeting."

"I wasn't either," Adriyn leaned his back against the wall. "The Jedi Council just summoned it; my Master told me it was concerning a mission to the Thym-Lad-Borat system. Me, you and our Masters are assigned to it."

Grabbing the dark brown garment in his left hand and his boots in his right, Obi-Wan glanced Adriyn's way, "Didn't it get investigated months ago?"

Adriyn folded his arms across his chest, turning his mouth into his all-familiar awry frown, "It was, I think. I don't know much about it."

"Does the Senate not want to interfere with the problem?"

"I hear they've been trying, but they aren't getting through to the governor of the people, or something."

"You would think," Obi-Wan said, beginning to slip his long boots on his feet, "That they would give us more information –"

"I remember now; Siri went there a while ago. She might be coming with us."

Hearing the name "Siri" brought an instant image of Obi-Wan's comrade to mind. Siri. Siri Tachi. His comrade and friend. Though Siri insisted they were only "comrades", Obi-Wan knew they were friends.

They had known each other since they were younglings; Obi-Wan still remembered what Siri had looked like when she was young. Shoulder-length blonde hair, clear blue eyes; he had thought she was very pretty, even though _she_ had thought he was odd. Siri was still the same at seventeen. Independent, impatient, and slightly testy; it was just the way she was, and would probably always be.

The relationship between the two had gone from dislike to almost hate, and from detest to another feeling they swore to never mention, to never think of or talk about again . . . and from that to comrades, since they rarely ever saw each other anymore.

". . . She just arrived a few hours ago . . . Obi . . . ?" A voice called, but Obi-Wan ignored it.

Obi-Wan realized it must have been months since the last time he had merely _seen_ Siri, even if they were both at the Temple at the same time –

"Obi-Wan?!" Adriyn exclaimed, and Obi-Wan snapped his head in the other's direction.

"What? Sorry, I –"

"Wasn't listening, I know." Adriyn shook his head, a smirk on his lips. "If we _ever_ have a conversation where you _don't_ wander off in thought, I don't know how I'll celebrate."

Obi-Wan smiled back. "And I'm guessing that will also be the day when you don't ask so many questions –"

"True. Anyway, I saw her in the Archives today, studying or something." Eyeing the scattered bookchips littering the floor, Adriyn wrinkled his auburn brow line and asked, "What were you _doing_?"

"Meditating."

"Are _you_ finished your studies?"

Obi-Wan hesitated, ". . . No –"

"I'm telling your Master!" Adriyn said through a teasing grin.

"Don't even –"

Adriyn sprinted hurriedly out of the room; Obi-Wan threw his robe over his shoulders and went after him. "Where are you going?"

"The Archives." Obi-Wan replied. "You?"

Adriyn shrugged. "My quarters, probably. The meeting's not for another hour or two."

The two slowed to an ambling pace, silent; the sun outside took its rest behind the silhouette of the Jedi Temple. Adriyn looked from the window back to Obi-Wan, and smiled, "Until then, my friend?"

Obi-Wan chuckled, not surprised that Adriyn remembered their traditional way of saying goodbye, and he replied before strolling his separate way, "Until then."


	3. Tension

**Chapter Two- **_**Tension **_

The vastness, coolness and crispness that was the Archive Library seemed today a bit more mysterious than always. Jedi strolled about with bookchips and datapads, searching the tall translucent bookshelves, vidscreens and datacomputers for information and facts.

Obi-Wan strolled along with them, past the rows of busts of ancient Jedi Masters, the life-likeness in their wrinkles of gray skin somehow lifeless, their eyes empty yet full of attentiveness. He turned from the artwork towards the shelves, and browsed uninterestedly up and down four or five sections and picked up a bookchip; he wasn't _really_ interested in . . . _The Assets and Obstacles of the Perfection of Levitation_, but he flipped through it anyway, his eyes searching the rows of datacomputers for a familiar face.

Obi-Wan finally spotted her, sitting cross-legged, relaxed in front of a datacomputer, studying the screen with her blue eyes.

As if he were a krayt dragon hunting prey, Obi-Wan knew, in order not to startle her, he would have to sneak around her. Slowly, he made his way around the cobalt bookshelves, still attempting to mask his presence and appear calm.

Finally reaching her spot, he strolled over to her leisurely and –

"Obi-Wan, hasn't your Master ever told you not to sneak up on a Jedi?" Siri glanced up at him with a smirk, her tone serious yet light, "Especially me."

"I just didn't want you to dart off again." He replied, equally serious, "I haven't seen you in weeks. It almost appears as if you are avoiding me."

Siri eyed him with little patience, "Me? Avoid the valiant Obi-Wan Kenobi? . . . Never –"

"Then how do you explain why whenever I see you, you happen to . . . disappear?"

"The same way you explain that when I do disappear, you don't bother to find me."

Bickering with Siri was useless, and he ignored her reply completely and then asked, "What's this?" His eyes shifted to the screen, scanning the tiny tan-yellow planet it displayed. "Tatooine?"

"This is Douron," Siri said, "It's one of the three moons in the Thym-Lad-Borat system."

"Thym-Lad-Borat? Adriyn was just telling me about it; we are to go on a mission there. I've never heard of it before now, though."

"Not many have. It's basically on the threshold of Wild Space, that's why it isn't usually charted, and it's only been in the Republics control for about thirty-years."

Siri opened another page on the monitor and the planet Thym-Lad-Borat showed; it was dark blue, showing no bodies of water or the green patches of land, meaning it was a city world. It looked similar to Coruscant, but it seemed much darker without the intricate pattern of scarlet lights that could be seen from Coruscant's atmosphere. Three moons orbited slowly around it, two dark grey and one, obviously Douron, brownish-yellow. "Is it inhabited?"

"Do you think a planet that big would be empty Obi-Wan –"

"Not Thym-Lad-Borat, Douron." He reached for the monitor's keypad to re-open Dourons page, "It looks too small –"

Siri's finger, which was already fixed on the keypad, clicked the page on, "Yes, it's inhabited; it's the only moon that is. The other two moons, Yoren and Xelle, were once habitable, but their atmospheres were contaminated with subderranium and all the citizens on them died. Douron is at risk for the same circumstances.."

Obi-Wan leaned his palms on the desk, studying the screen and then Siri's face; why was this so interesting anyway? "What . . . is the problem again?"

"The problem is, the Douronians are stubborn. My Master and I were there a few months ago and we found high traces of subderranium in the atmosphere, so we ordered an evacuation of the citizens. They, of course to make things difficult, began to refuse. But since Yoren and Xelle's circumstances ended so tragically, the authorities didn't allow the citizens their choice; the evacuation was forced, and didn't end well on the Jedi's terms.

"They only allowed a group of people living in an air-filtered facility to stay, and the rest were shuttled to Republic funded shelters."

"And . . . why are you looking this over?"

Siri shot him annoyed eyes.

"It's been a while since you went, don't you think?"

"It was six months ago. I'm just . . . looking it over."

"How many times have you looked it over?" Obi-Wan asked, recognizing how swiftly she searched through the document, like she'd seen it before - multiple times.

She hesitated a reply, " . . . As many times as I needed."

Obi-Wan noticed her tone, leveled and meant to be subtle; the same one she used when she was shrinking from her real feelings, trying to deny them. She was hiding something.

It didn't take him by surprise in the least, but he felt a knot in his back and the Force brought tension to the air. Siri had been avoiding Obi-Wan not only to evade him asking her about what she was hiding, about this strange moon Douron or her mission there, but to try and forget whatever it was herself. Siri glanced his way, perturbed by his silence, "Just to confirm, I haven't been avoiding you –"

"Really?" This time, Obi-Wan dropped his slight sarcasm and went sincere.

And just as he did, the Force grew tighter, tense; Obi-Wan released his sincerity, but still the Force was grave.

"Do you feel that?" He mumbled, at the same time Siri murmured, "Did you sense that?"

Obi-Wan and Siri both whispered, as if listening for what the Force gestured.

Siri stood apprehensively, her fists clenched tightly; Obi-Wan had his hand on the hilt of his lightsaber, mentally aware. The Jedi roaming the Archives were as still as they were, almost if they were in the eye of the storm, waiting for the gust of wind or current of rain to resume.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, made himself small in the Force and expanded his senses, remembering the words his Masters told him and often reminded him, "_If it is the full picture you yearn for, you must first open your eyes._"

He saw a swirling haze stretched out before him, and the danger was a clouded darkness, growing nearer but thicker in the process. Yes, the Force was tense, perplexed, wary . . . it subtly hinted danger, but Obi-Wan couldn't tell where or when.  
"It's almost like we're –"

The sudden crash of durasteel and plastisteel crunched, and a blast of heat caused Obi-Wan's eyes to water. The blurred image of smoke and flames before him minimized as he was hit by the impact of whatever it was, and tossed backward like he was merely a doll.

The wind rushed from his chest, and he heard the sharp snap of his neck as he hit a bookcase hard, and slid the rest of the way down to the marble floor. His Jedi senses flaring with shock, Obi-Wan was only dimly aware of what had just happened, and with his lungs traumatized and unable to breathe it only confused him more. The cresending melody of an alarm rose, sharp and piercing; cascades of smoke began to billow through the Library, and it took more than a few heartbeats for Obi-Wan to realize how blackened the room was becoming.

After a moment, he finally could breathe, and inhaled the acrid air and coughed at how thick it was; he instantly regretted it, smelling gas in the air. He held his breath and realized he could only do this for so long also; the thought of escape trickled into his mind, and he stood abruptly, staggered like a drunken man, and collapsed. Obi-Wan's watering eyes shifted to see Siri sprawled on the floor close to the exit, prompting him to wonder how far away it was, but his vision hazed from smoke and fire and panic.

Through the exit rushed in a random number of Jedi, some in the white robes of Medical personnel, and Obi-Wan noticed their high level of alarm. His Master rushed toward him, his solemn face concerned and staggered, and Obi-Wan heard the faint echo of his name before he slipped unconscious.

* * *

The Healing Halls in the Jedi Temple were calm as usual, treating minor injuries like lightsaber burns and blaster wounds, Master Healers monitoring the infirm and ill, or at least they were calm. "The Crash" as it was soon after referred to, and its abrupt occurrence, had caught the Med wing off guard, or at least by surprise, and they were in good words frantic.

Amidst this trauma was Jedi Mater Qui-Gon Jinn, who only stood amidst the panic and stayed his usual emotion: calm.

Qui-Gon had sensed the familiar flare of his Padawan's abilities mere seconds before he had heard "The Crash". Being minutely attuned to his apprentice was something he had over the years gained, and he had know exactly where "The Crash" happened because of that and was one of the first to enter the Archives.

Unharmed spectators said that an unmarked concussion bomb, an explosive device equipped with a chemical that could quickly knock one unconscious, crashed into the small laboratory off the Jedi Library. At least fifteen Jedi were injured, including Qui-Gon's Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi and fellow protégé Siri Tachi; the purpose of "The Crash", he was told, was still unknown, but most Jedi felt, as Qui-Gon did, that it was intentional.

Folding his arms over his chest, Qui-Gon exhaled and fixed his blue eyes on his Padawan's unconscious form, still clad in scorched, dirty robes, on a cot in the Med Hall. Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon's young, headstrong, and intelligent apprentice, knew more than anyone else that his Master had been taught to evade the obvious and consider the impossible, for that was what Qui-Gon taught Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan knew that Qui-Gon lived by that rule, and many others similar philosophies, and it was because of that that he was one of the wisest and foolish people in the Padawan's life. Qui-Gon's reliance on his feelings, his trust in beings he knew for mere minutes. His utter . . . ignorance of certain Jedi regulations, either ended up getting him in trouble with the Council or solving a problem no one else had the incentive to decipher.

Many questioned how he had ever become a Jedi Master, but Obi-Wan also knew his Master was truly an exceedingly patient, and gentle man. Obi-Wan often reminded Qui-Gon how he honestly did deserve to sit on the High Council of Twelve, which usually prompted the same reply from Qui-Gon, "I am still too young."

He mused on how he would inform his Padawan how close he was getting to becoming a Jedi Knight, in which Obi-Wan would reply with the former. "I am still too young."

Qui-Gon took comfort in watching Obi-Wan's chest rise and fall rhythmically. The Med's had put the boy on oxygen, the clear mask that covered his mouth hazing with each breath; rise, fall, inhale, exhale, clear, haze. The youth _was_ still young, only eighteen standard years old, but he was remarkably connected to the Living Force, and –

Qui-Gon stumbled backwards suddenly as a Jedi Medical personnel clipped his shoulder as she ran past him. The girl had to be only his apprentice's age, with deep brown hair, soft blue eyes and a harsh white robe.

Noticing her error, she quickly turned around, strolled back to face the Jedi Master and bowed deeply, "I apologize sincerely Master." She said hurriedly, "I didn't realize that it was you."

"No harm done." Qui-Gon replied, smiling and bowing in return.

"I was told to inform you that the Council confirmed 'The Crash' as a voluntary action. You and your mission comrades are leaving for Douron as soon as your Padawan is ready, and are to report to the High Council Room for a quick briefing."

The girl tucked her Padawan braid behind her ear, only slightly pausing for a breath, "Obi-Wan has suffered from a slight concussion, a wrist sprain, some minor burns, bruises, and smoke inhalation, but nothing serious. He should attempt to take it easy, if possible, and avoid further loss of consciousness and any strain to his lungs in order not to worsen his condition."

Qui-Gon nodded and bowed again to the girl as she sped away into the bustling Med area. He still intently watched his Padawan, though his mind was dwelling elsewhere, on how this problem with Douron would affect the already struggling Senate.

This happening was very out-of-nowhere, the kind of thing that would lead into a political uproar; something accidental claimed as an offense or an offense claimed accidental. When the Senate heard about this threat to the Jedi, which he knew they must have by then, Qui-Gon wasn't sure which side they would take. It was wise of the Council to press this voyage to Douron to avoid additional dilemmas in the Senate, but something like "The Crash" could easily be a ploy and they could be stepping right into it.

He also wondered how long he had before his Padawan would awake, and with the thought Obi-Wan stirred, and opened his blue eyes.

* * *

The thing Obi-Wan hated the most about unconsciousness was the mind-numbing sense of pure terror that overcame his mind the instant he awoke. For a split- second, he was unsure, vulnerable and terrified. Pain was some thing he could control, that wasn't the problem. It was the former, the reflexive actions he did, like dreaming and adrenaline, that annoyed him.

As a Jedi, Obi-Wan endeavored for complete control, but his Master had often told him it was more or less impossible and useless to try and attempt. So he let the fear run its quick course and opened his eyes to find himself in the Healing Halls – and he knew that was not good.

He was vertical on a med cot, his lungs slightly ached and his head was pounding. He held up his arms, noticing his left wrist was wrapped in gauze, and his tunic sleeves were spotted with ashes and soot. Arising onto his elbows, Obi-Wan pulled at the oxygen mask strapped around his mouth and tore it off; as he did, though, his lungs began to itch and grow even sorer, and he coughed, which hurt even more. He put the mask back on.

Breathing deeply and glancing ahead through glass, he saw his Master's face, solemn and smiling and not as distressed as their last encounter. But when was that? What had _happened_ to him?

The Padawan was silent as Qui-Gon entered the ward and approached him, knowing the look on his Master's face.

"How are you feeling, Padawan?" He asked gently, sitting at the end of the cot, his blue eyes soft with concern.

Obi-Wan replied, his voice hoarse, "Just a bit sore." He subconsciously rubbed his stiff neck, "Nothing meditation won't help."

The man sighed, a weary, troubled sigh, and Obi-Wan asked the question burning on his mind, "What happened?"

"To put it simply, a concussion bomb was sent by a group of Douronians to the Temple for reasons we are still unsure of. The Douronians are angered with the Jedi for forcing an evacuation on their planet when a group of people called the Seikh Clan are allowed to still abide there."

Obi-Wan recalled Siri telling him of "a group of people" living on Douron; he had dismissed them, not knowing they would or even could be a problem.

"They had previously taken their case to the Senate, but, of course, the Senate did nothing. We presume that the angered citizens sent the bomb to crash into the Temple to voice their frustration, and since we have no clue of who sent it, we cannot do anything to stop them from doing it again –"

"And from doing something worse." Obi-Wan finished, knowing where the conversation was headed. "So the only thing we can do to stop it is to negotiate with the Seikh Clan."

Qui-Gon nodded, folding his arms. "We are heading to Douron to speak with the Seikh Clan and attempt to persuade them to evacuate to avoid any further incidences involving the Jedi. The Council summoned a quick briefing, and Master Adi Gallia is accompanying us, to put to rest what she started–"

"And Siri?" Obi-Wan asked, coughing; his lungs still ached and itched, despite the oxygen.

Qui-Gon half-smiled, "I'm sure Adi would not leave her apprentice behind now, would she?"

Obi-Wan turned his head to his right, his gaze inspected Siri with soot laced in her blonde hair and smudged on her face. She lay beneath a white sheet that brought contrast to her browned tunic; she suddenly opened her blue eyes, startling Obi-Wan slightly. "When are we going to Douron?" Siri spoke up, fully aware, her eyes tense with anxiety.

Qui-Gon fixed her gaze on hers, attempting to steady the shaken young girl.

"Daybreak."


	4. Confessions

**Chapter Three- _Confessions_**_**  
**_

"Apologizes the Council does, for at such short notice this meeting summoning." Master Yoda's voice was coarse, and he wrapped his three-fingered hands tighter around his gimer stick. "But an emergency this is."

In the Council room, the moonlight cast calming shadows on the floor, and they seemed to be the only calm thing in the area. Most of the High Council Members we're just being seated, a portion of the summoned Jedi were strolling in directly from the Healing Halls, and you could clearly read on each of their faces that this was indeed an emergency meeting.

Master Adi Gallia, taking her place in the centre of the area with the other Jedi, gave wary eye to her Padawan Siri, whose injuries were luckily not severe as were Obi-Wan's alike; bruises, burns, a dislocated shoulder for Siri, nothing serious. Nothing that would hold up their important mission.

Master Qui-Gon seemed less worried over his apprentice as he stood resolute aside him, though he had been advised by the Healers not to attend due to his concussion, and Obi-Wan tried his best to appear un-dizzy though the room spun about him on occasion. He gently touched the bruise at the base of his skull beneath a halo of gauze that wrapped around to his forehead and winced, and Qui-Gon, for not the first time and most likely not the last, told him gently, "Do not touch it, Padawan."

"I'm sorry Master, it's just annoying." Obi-Wan held his hands behind hiself, fighting his attention elsewhere.

Master Gatham Cla'i, a young humanoid man and Master to Adriyn, stood next to his Padawan, casual in stance though concerned intensely by the whole dilemma by the tense expression on his face. Adriyn Gain, fidgeting at his Master's side, nudged Obi-Wan in the side playfully as he tottered a bit, and Obi-Wan caught is balance quickly, giving Adriyn a glance.

"Sorry, but you're leaning -"

Master Mace Windu cleared his throat quietly for silence, folding his hands across his casually crossed legs. His dark eyes meant nothing but business, and he spoke then in his deep monotone, "Master Gallia, Master Jinn, Master Cla'i, our thanks for attending at such a late hour; the urgency of our situation is too great to put off. Adi, if you may, inform us of her previous excursion to Douron."

Adi Gallia stepped forward slightly, her blue eyes emanating confidence. Her Jedi robes were swathed loosely around her petite body, and her Toloth headdress shook gently as she bowed and began to speak. "The condition of Douron is, unfortunately, rather bleak. Since it is not in control of the laws and principles of the Republic, it is spilling over with wrongdoing. Spice harboring, constant robbery and theft are some; bounty hunters had previous control over Douron before the Senate took over, and afterwards the Republic left the system alone. There's really no law enforced at all, and any crime done is either filed into Thym-Lad-Borat, reviewed by the Courts and possibly dealt with, or taken unnoticed and left alone.

"Douron's self-made 'government' is the weak one of Thym-Lad-Borat, its governing planet, and there is no wonder this problem is taking place. Douron is barely surviving in its own eco-system, lacking water and healthy soil. My Padawan and I have already ordered the evacuation of the planet after an extremely high content of subderranium was found in the atmosphere and was located emitting from a source that is still unidentified; our highest assumption is a radioactive spill of some sort, in the air or through the soil. The Seikh Facility, however, refused our warning, and is currently still residing on Douron . . . ."

The subtle mention of Adi's apprentice caught Obi-Wan's attention, and he leaned forward onto the toes of his boots to glance at the young woman at her side, standing stoic yet calm, a mysterious manifestation in her eyes. He still sensed sharp her inwardness, which was unlike her. She never usually failed to have her opinion expressed, and expressed to as many as she could. For Siri to hide something, if she was, and Obi-Wan was nearly sure of it, was odd.

As he pondered, Obi-Wan studied Siri's solemn face, trying to find the familiar essence of strength in her lucid blue eyes, but he only saw a haze of disquiet masking her vision, clouding her stare . . . .

"Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon whispered, not sternly, but the way he often did to alert his apprentice.

Obi-Wan looked up at his Masters face, and realized he had been lost in thought. Qui-Gon shot him a puzzled look, and Obi-Wan quickly caught his composure, feeling his face warm with embarrassment.

". . . a small population of citizens found in the Thym-Lad-Borat system that call themselves the 'Seikh Clan of Prosperity', and reside on the moon of Douron." Master Windu said, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. "Adi Gallia has told us from her previous investigation that the clan lives in a Facilitation building, where they seemingly work and live their entire lives without ever leaving. The clan themselves are fine, but we have a different opinion about their Governor, a former bounty hunter named Amos."

"Said he has his days of malice over they were," Master Yoda added, blinking his green-brown eyes, "But some suspicious activity there has been."

"After the content of subderranium was detected at an unknown source on Douron, the inhabitants were ordered to evacuate. The Thym-Lad-Borat government has told the Senate saying the Governor of the Seikh refuses to believe that his clan is in peril, and has not left the planet." Mace continued.

"Time and again, tried the Senate has to persuade the governor themselves," Yoda let out a guttural sigh, "All attempts, failed they have, and now asking the Jedi they are to intervene."

Master Windu nodded. "We don't know very much about this dilemma or the governor's insurgence; these facts are only supposed. The Council is assigning you to further investigate these claims, and attempt to veer the –"

"I thought we already sent someone to investigate this place," Adriyn blurted, "And that was _months_ ago. If they were fine then, why should we waste our time trying now?"

Mace stared at Adriyn, his brown eyes displeased, "We are not wasting our time Padawan; these people were never 'fine' –"

"All I'm trying to say is why help someone who doesn't want the help?"

"Adriyn," Master Cla'i whispered, glancing at his Padawan with warning in his eyes.

"We could spend our time on people who need our assistance and who _want_ it Master." Siri put in quickly, her voice the same tone as Adriyn's. "I am sure that our assistance will not –"

"Understand the Council does that looked into this problem we have," Master Yoda bellowed, twisting his green lips, "And to question the Council's decision, the place of young Padawan's it is _not_."

Obi-Wan leaned forward once again to see Adriyn's frustrated face, and Siri's anxious expression. Adriyn had a bad habit of forgetting his place, especially before the High Council; his desire of expressing his opinion often caused him to misplace respect.

But Obi-Wan was more surprised at Siri, who had spoken up also. She was outspoken, that was a truth, but not like Adriyn. It was unlike her to even question her Master, at least not directly to her, and she had never spoken out of turn to the Council before that Obi-Wan had ever witnessed. He turned his head toward her, and Siri glanced back at him, the unfamiliar materialization still present in her eyes, and pulled her brown robe tighter around her waist.

"I am sure, Padawans, that we are not chasing a lost cause," Mace said, though he was eyeing Adi and Gatham, "but I condone you for your concern."

"Yes Master," The two replied in unison, the tension in the room fading into its usually neutral calm.

Master Windu continued, "As I was saying, the Council is assigning you to convince the Governor to evacuate his Facility, in as little time as you can."

"Wish you luck, I do," Yoda chuckled, looking around to the other Council members, "We all do. May the Force be with you."

The Jedi group bowed to the Council members, and exited the area slowly.

* * *

As Qui-Gon began to converse with Master Cla'i and Adi, Obi-Wan slipped away from his Master's side over to Adriyn and Siri, who were adjacent to the marble doorway. He heard bits of the conversation as he approached Adriyn.

". . . so don't ask again."

"Come on Siri, I'm only trying to help. Just tell me why you didn't show."

"I was busy. Don't ask again." Siri's tone was nothing playful, though Adriyn, oblivious to his own presence at times, didn't take the hint.

"Busy with what? I waited for you for an hour, and then I had to end up sparring Yure Valn, and you _know_ how good he is. I was nearly killed - he must have burned me seventeen times before I called mercy."

"What's this?" Obi-Wan asked, seeing Siri fold her arms, impatiently glancing over to her Master and down at her boots in repetition; Adriyn, oblivious once again, didn't notice his question.

"You realize you missed it this morning?" Adriyn said.

Siri nodded.

"And there's no reason why you weren't there?"

Siri shook her head. Adriyn leaned closer to her ear.

"Were you playing hooky?"

"As a matter of fact, I was." Siri walked off down the hall, her tan robe billowing behind her.

"Stars Siri!" Adriyn exclaimed, frustrated.

But Obi-Wan was confused. He began down the hallway after her; Siri turned in her tracks to face Obi-Wan.

"I'm fine." Siri's eyes were glazed over like a sheet of ice. Her voice was cold and emotionless; Obi-Wan, taken aback, paused and watched Siri stroll away. She hadn't snapped at him like that since they were young. _What is upsetting her?_

Adriyn sauntered over to Obi-Wan's side. "She's acting strange," Obi-Wan stated softly, so their Master's couldn't hear him.

Adriyn chewed his lip in thought, "All I asked is where she was this morning, because she missed the sparring session we'd planned, the one she'd rescheduled . . . seven times already. She never gives up a chance to spar me, and she's never this ignorant. Not even toward you, Obi."

"I don't know why she spoke up in the meeting either."

The two exchanged troubled looks, just as Master Cla'i tapped his apprentice on his shoulder and whispered, "If you haven't realized, it is one in the morning. Young Padawans need sleep; come Adriyn, you're tiring Obi-Wan out."

Adriyn nodded, eyes still wavering with concern about Siri, before bowing his head to his comrade and following his Master away down the halls. Obi-Wan merely caught eyes with Qui-Gon before strolling into step beside him, fighting back a yawn that his Master, of course, saw.

Qui-Gon placed a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, "Tired, young one?"

He nodded only, his mind elsewhere, uneasy still. Qui-Gon again saw such.

"Is there something troubling you?"

". . . No, Master." Obi-Wan replied as confidently as he could manage, "I'm fine."

For the second time that night, that statement was false.

* * *

Obi-Wan piled into his bedroom, exhausted. He tore off his robe, boots and the gauze hindering his movement on his hands, the skin beneath flushed pink and tender from minor burns, but he didn't have the strenght to care at that moment. Heaving himself onto his bed with a tired groan, Obi-Wan sighed and closed his eyes; his mind whirled with all that had happened in his last few hours, especially with concern for Siri even still, and he couldn't relax.

He never had a problem with Siri's secrecy before, and if it it did happen it was purely out of teasing not serious trouble. Obi-Wan sensed his concern was deep, hinted by the Force and not just friendly anxiety.

Obi-Wan rubbed his face and his sore head as he turned over, kicking off his sleeping sheets, annoyed. He wished he would have told his Master of his uneasiness. Qui-Gon always had a way to calm him, even if it were as unconventional as exposing his fears or troubles to his face, forcing him to confront them, or as simple as sitting beside his bed until he fell asleep, which the Master hadn't done for a long while. But he wasn't a boy anymore, even if Obi-Wan only wished the thought into being.

After another few minutes of tossing, Obi-Wan groaned softly again into his pillow, hearing Qui-Gon's gentle snores from across their quarters. _Well, at least one of us will be rested._ He had to sleep before they departed, which was in a mere . . . six hours. Meditation was what the Padawan needed, but he felt even too drained for that.

Obi-Wan shivered, pulling his blanket back on and remembering a window he had opened and the frigid night breeze most likely blowing through. He arose, trudging bare feet on the cool floor over to the far wall to close it quickly, but as he pushed it resisted his might. He wiggled it open a bit further to loosen it, and the wind outside raged in wildly, blowing flimsiplast, rattling his closet doors, and giving him an awful chill; Obi-Wan slammed it shut, reluctantly stooping to gather scattered papers.

He messily collected them all, wrinkling sheet after familiar study sheet, until his eyes found a foreign script, a handwritten note not written in his hand, and he paused. Obi-Wan fumbled for greater light atop his nightstand, banging his head, of course directly on his sore spot, on his glow lamp as he adjusted to kneel down aside it.

He fought back another groan, not wanting to awaken Qui-Gon, and he listened carefully for his Master's quiet snores before he squinted to read it in the dimness:

_Obi-Wan,_ it read,

_I am taking a leave of absence from the Jedi Order. Please inform my Master, for I fear I don't have the courage to face her myself. I will be gone for a near three months, for I require time to reconsider my way of life. If the Order rebukes me upon my return, I hope you will forgive me. I am sorry this is the way it must be. - Siri Tachi_

The ticking of his chronometer filled his ears for long seconds. Obi-Wan released a breath he had not realized he had been holding._ Leaving?_ He thought bewildered and angered all at once,_ The way it must be? How dare she do this to me -_

He hit his head again on his glow lamp as he went to stand, inhaling through his teeth in frustration.

"She . . . she didn't write this." Obi-Wan told himself softly as he stood, rubbing his head, "Adriyn did . . . as a joke . . ."

He chuckled, but falsely comforting himself, stopped. With his thumb he gently stroked Siri's signature, and the ink smudged into a blurred line; the note was fresh, too fresh for Adriyn to have written it. Adriyn didn't print that neatly either.

Without second thought, Obi-Wan went to his closet and grabbed a clean tunic; he was going to fix things, though he did not know how, but he was. Everything would be set right.

_It looks like I'm not sleeping tonight_, Obi-Wan mused as he folded the note carefully and stuck it in his pocket,_ another great advantage of befriending Siri Tachi._


	5. Discoveries

Alright, sorry for the wait, but here it is. Enjoy!

* * *

Obi-Wan knew where she would be.

As he strolled quietly along the private quarters of other sleeping Jedi, he passed Siri's chambers, but he knew she would not be there, for she would want to avoid her Master's presence.

As he traveled amongst the darkness, down short flights of stairs and through corridors, he knew she would not be roaming the halls like some other Jedi did to relieve sleeplessness, soothed by the calming atmosphere and quietness that was the Jedi Temple at night.

No, Obi-Wan knew Siri well enough. He knew where she'd be.

Obi-Wan tread softly in his bare feet as he wandered into the Room of a Thousand Fountains, eyes immediately glancing through the cool spray of the fountains, the sanctuary's jungle like bushery, searching. No one was about, except for him and the shadows that danced along the glossy floors, but he sensed Siri's presence as plainly as if it were his own. Obi-Wan tiptoed to a halt, standing behind the still shadow of a pillar, when he spotted her sitting along the edge of a calm pool, hands skimming the rippling waters like a curious youngling. A travel bag was at her feet and her robe shrouded her face, blonde strands of hair dangling down from her hood. She appeared serene, as if nothing were upset.

Obi-Wan watched her for another moment, hesitant, slipping his hands into opposite sleeves out of the nights chill though inside he was very much so warm. A pulse of anger muddled in his blood, one he fought to soothe, one not of hatred but filled with hurt.

The note had felt like a sharp insult when he had read it in his quarters minutes ago, each phrase a shallow ridicule that still boiled his blood. Had his friendship with Siri deserved nothing but a farewell message? His shock of her decision was near as great as his offense by it.

Obi-Wan refused to believe it, clenching his fist around the flimsi in his hand. They has known one another for far too long to be treating each other this way, hiding things and keeping secrets. She would not shrug him off like an old dusting, use him as a secret keeper and run away from her life.

The Siri he knew was not that cold. Or so he continued to hope.

Heaving a steadying sigh, Obi-Wan strolled quietly to her and stood behind her. Siri did not respond to his presence, but Obi-Wan knew she sensed him. He sat near, beside her along the bank of soft sand, and opened his hand, revealing the note and smoothing out the creases in the paper. He held it towards Siri, but she did not look, continuing to skim the water; he rubbed his thumbs along the wrinkled corners as he said to her, "I knew I'd find you here."

Her reply was gentle, which was unlike her, but indignant still, "As I you."

"Were you waiting for me?"

"Of course not. I was only savouring this place while I can. I'll miss it most."

"More than I?"

Siri smiled just a bit, "I will miss studies and scrubbing the cafeteria floors more than I will miss you."

"At least I am above Master Yoda."

The soft laughter was fleeting. The inevitability of their next turn of conversation hovered over them like a heavy burden, and he turned his gaze from her, out into the room. The aura of night was obscured about them, the air smelling of flowering plants and life; Obi-Wan breathed deeply the scent, and it calmed him. The entire place was soothing for him, one of reflection, a haven almost. It was a place filled with thoughts and dreams and other memories, of when he was a boy, an Initiate, or even as he was then. It was a place of peace.

Yet somehow, it seemed to end up being one of equal discord.

The length of the silence unnerved Obi-Wan. He wished for a moment they could stay there, beside the pool in the serene stillness, no forward or backward. But the fact of never knowing would probably destroy him. He sensed Siri's apprehension as he shifted his feet, but forced himself to continue.

"You . . . don't have to go." Obi-Wan suggested in a whisper, gentle like the falling water as his eyes continued to graze over her concernedly.

"I do. And I know you don't want me to."

Siri finally met his gaze. She looked tired. The darkness under her eyes mirrored the darkness in them, their usual blueness veiled with secrecy, a veil Obi-Wan wished to tear away. She could not hold her stare, refusing her eyes from him and staring out around the dim oasis, the gently churning pool.

Her slow, drawn reply betrayed her calm facade, like her inner truth was clawing it's way through her falsity. "I've gathered my belongings. I'm keeping my lightsaber with me, unless you would like to keep it for me -"

"You expect me . . . to do this?" Obi-Wan asked, incredulously.

Siri nodded, "I must leave."

Again, her tone betrayed the finality behind her words. Obi-Wan ached for her to look at him, "I know you are hiding something. You are cold and emotionless towards me, but on the inside you're screaming."

"Obi-Wan -"

"You _are_ hiding something."

It was not a question. The quiet, coarse statement rung about them for a few moments, confirming itself to both of them. Siri only swallowed.

"You missed a chance to spar with Adriyn. You spoke out of turn during the Council meeting. You've been avoiding me, and when I do finally see you, you barely speak to me. And now, this?"

He held up the note.

"What is going on? You're a good student, soon to be a Jedi Knight, you haven't caused any trouble, and you're suddenly leaving the Order, to possibly throw away your future, so you can 'reconsider your way of life'?"

She was as defensive as he, her tone pure, unadulterated seriousness, "Yes, Obi-Wan, I am. I'm leaving. But I'm coming back -"

"Says who?"

Siri met his eyes then, and they were dark and fierce, "Says me. I will return."

"But you could be cast out of the Order!" Obi-Wan impatiently exclaimed, feeling his temper rise, "Returning is one thing, but being accepted is a whole different story."

"Then I'll take the risk and run with it," Siri looked away, "and ask that you don't tell anyone. I'm leaving tonight, before the mission –"

"Which will be cancelled because everyone will suspect you were kidnapped or killed – Siri, I can't. I can't lie for you. Your Master will be devastated that you left, and –"

"I know." Siri pursed her lips, and Obi-Wan noticed the welling up of emotion inside her. _Grief_, he thought, _but grief for what?_ "I dare not tell her. I cannot tell her –"

"Then don't leave, Siri." Obi-Wan heard the pleading in his tone himself, desperate and helpless.

"I must."

She was sincere, and Obi-Wan felt a swelling ache in him. He was suddenley caught up in memories of another time that had occurred in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, one that still lingered in his memory. The wretched night still too soon past when they had renounced the feelings that had blossomed between them. The night that he had had no choice but to let her go.

Obi-Wan had told himself not to think about it since then, but as he watched Siri the memory was as clear as the water trickling before her, reflecting dappled light upon her solemn face and shadowed form. The heartbreak, the anguish. The regret.

He still cared for her. He never wanted to see her suffer, never wished any hurt to come to her. The Padawan refused anything more than that, though the refusal only hid the lingering feelings. He could not imagine what he would do if she were gone, if he could live not knowing if she were safe or ill or alive. If he could live without her.

Siri seemed to sense his thought pattern and looked up, out into the pillars behind Obi-Wan, and he detected the glint of tears, "You are one of my dearest friends, Obi-Wan. I care for you. I chose to tell you because I trust you -"

"Yet not enough to tell me what it is you're keeping from me."

Maybe it was his temper, his impatience, or his fierce desire, but something took over in a quick, harsh whisper then, and Obi-Wan had no intention of stopping, "Why? _Why_ must you leave? Why must you run away? Why do you have to reconsider anything? Why do you hide from me?"

Siri's lips trembled, and she rose to her feet and wiped her nose, sniffing back tears as she grabbed her travel bag and began away from him.

"They will not let you return." Obi-Wan's voice was grave with warning, despite her visible sadness, and he went after her down the stone paths, a few steps behind as they weaved between the gardenry, "The Council will not allow it. You will be expelled. I cannot tell Adi for you. I cannot let you do this."

Obi-Wan ran ahead of her onto a small wooden bridge that passed over a calm stream. He crumpled the note into a wad and whipped it over the edge of the railing, out into the water furiously; the flimsiplast floated for moments before weakening and sinking beneath the surface.

Siri, from her place watching him form the path, hardly flinched.

Obi-Wan was angered by her lack of reaction, wanting to tear out his hair, "Look at me! Scream at me, hit me, anything! Where are you, Siri?"

She moved none.

"Talk to me. Tell me whatever you want. Tell me anything, just please tell me -"

"I can't!"

Siri shouted, tossing her bag angrily before continuing, "I can't, and I'm sorry - I didn't want to write the note, and I didn't want to ignore you, or Adriyn, or the Council, or anyone. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't do anything I want to and it's killing me from the inside that all these can'ts keep growing and growing, and I'm sick of all the secrets and hiding and I wish I could scream and I wish it would all disappear!

"I wish I could leave and not regret, and not miss my Master or the Temple or sparring classes or missions or you. I wish everything would go away. I wish I was a yongling again, and we could swim in the pools here and laugh and never have to try to be innocent and carefree. I wish you could understand, Obi-Wan. I just wish you could understand."

"I want to, Siri. Please . . . I'm trying."

He glanced tentatively into her glassy, tear-filled eyes as she appeared to tremble then, and it was then when Obi-Wan knew. He realized then that she was not doing any of this for attention, like she might have as an Initiate. She was not looking for sympathy or pity as she spilled out her bottled up thoughts. There was something truly, honestly and seriously wrong going on.

Siri hated emotional reactions; she believed it wasn't at all necessary, and had always strongly supported her opinion. Obi-Wan had never seen her cry, not truly. But she was in tears. And if Obi-Wan didn't see her standing before him, he would not have believed it.

"What's wrong?" He strolled slowly closer to her, keeping a hand on the rail in an anxious grip.

"I'm . . . –" Siri's voice trembled, and Obi-Wan noticed her lip quivering again, "I don't know . . . what to do."

"What to do about what – "

"I'm pregnant."

Obi-Wan stopped mid-stride. He clenched his hand on the bridge, his stomach sinking deeper than his heavy heart. He forced himself to breathe.

Siri turned from him, shoulders shuddering. Obi-Wan, despite his shock, could not ignore her suffering.

"Siri . . ." Obi-Wan hushed, reaching her and touching her forearm with his hand, and she faced him, cheeks trailed with tears. Her blue eyes were glassy like mirrors, reflecting genuine sorrow. Obi-Wan had scarcely ever seen such in her so deeply.

Without second thought he embraced her gently, and she leaned into him, her face pressed into his shoulder, and cried. Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around her, and the silence spoke between them for a few moments.

It seemed to say all, and yet nothing, but they both understood it.

* * *

Like I always say, reviews appreciated :)


	6. Hiddenness

**(Sorry for the wait, updating this story may take a different turn from now on. I'm hoping, as are probably you, quicker next time. Thanks for following and reviewing, appreciation to all.)**

* * *

Qui-Gon stood, relaxed seemingly, strong arms folded over his broad chest in the centre of his quarters. Fingers fought from impatiently drumming against his arms, feet restrained from tapping, and a sigh escaped him at the length of his wait; should he happen to be concerned at all about things, it didn't seem terribly evident.

The kettle shrilled from its place atop the stove to his left in a plume of hot steam, as it had been for five minutes, piercing, insistent. Qui-Gon was surprised he had been able to stand it, let alone any other Jedi in their neighbouring quarters. But the surprise that struck him most was how in the galaxy his Padawan before him had not but flinched since it began and continued to, unperturbed.

Qui-Gon knew the boy was even-tempered, Qui-Gon knew he was a great deal more level-headed than he. But Qui-Gon was never fooled. _Master Yoda couldn't even handle this_, he mused, and knew the still form sitting at their dining table before him, head bowed slightly and eyes staring, was not just the result of composed tranquility. On the contrary, it was the result of such being disturbed.

Qui-Gon, his ears literally ringing from the tone, cleared his throat firmly to try and alert the boy back from whatever distant, troubled state of mind that captured his sole awareness. Weak, pale sunlight dappled Obi-Wan's young face from the nearby window, revealing the darkened blue-grey eyes much like the clouds that obscured the dawn. The form was stock-stiff, posture none but perfect, though the ever so faint heaviness in the chest, the shoulders, alerted Qui-Gon immediately. The boy was exhausted.

No wonder, either, after "The Crash" yesterday and the Council meeting that had stretched into the wee hours of the morning, Obi-Wan had every right to be feeling fatigue, and Qui-Gon knew it.

He also knew all about Obi-Wan's late night excursions to hither and yon and who knows where else that had followed, and of his early morning return. He found it nearly comical his Padawan thought he could hide it from him. Then again, it wasn't a laughing matter in the least.

Qui-Gon tried differently then, speaking firmly over the screaming noise, a tone Obi-Wan should have responded to, "Padawan?"

Not even a blink escaped the boy, but yet another heavy breath did from Qui-Gon, glancing at the chrono again. They would be late for their departure if they did not hurry things along, but he figured there was always give-and-take time for a short lecture, a lesson to be learned, as from any situation. Though then, the situation seemed somewhat deeper than a simple reprimand. Something appeared out of place, and not just appeared, but felt so. It was Obi-Wan's lack of focus concerned the Master.

Attentiveness was a trait Qui-Gon admired deeply in the boy, an ever-present charm of youth and vigor, not as careless as haste or as unpredictable. Obi-Wan's ability to be at a near constant state of alert sometimes baffled and pleased the Master, and it never failed -

_Unless . . . the boy is hiding something_. Hiding was a lesson the boy still had to learn, despite the countless times Qui-Gon had lectured him about it. Surprises, no, those were not a problem. It was the secrets that concerned the Master most, the times when Obi-Wan would learn of something he was not supposed to know or do something he was not supposed to do, whether with a purpose or accidentally, and hide.

Maybe not to tint his mostly spotless reputation, maybe just embarrassed shame, but Qui-Gon had learned quickly it was a habit that Obi-Wan would struggle long with. It was one he soon had to break. Thus, anytime Qui-Gon noticed Obi-Wan's lack of focus, he knew he was dealing with something hidden, which often gave him grief.

But what the hidden problem was, Qui-Gon did not know._ Fear for the mission surely is not enough for Obi-Wan to be this way. The Crash, possibly? No. His emotions seem to be counter-directed, influenced beyond his own feelings._

The Master, fed up, strolled quietly and took a seat at the small table across from Obi-Wan, folding his hands before him. The bond between them, that had been introverted since last night by the Padawan, felt like a flatlined heart monitor, but Qui-Gon pulsed it gently into motion again.

Obi-Wan blinked instantly at the familiar touch in the Force, eyes flickering back to life as they searched to meet his Qui-Gon's with confusion their sole reflection, "Master?"

He asked, as if he had been waiting on something from Qui-Gon. The elder man fought back a smile, maintaining neutrality on his face. No sooner did Obi-Wan turn curiosly to the screeching kettle, brown brows furrowed deeply. He tried again, "Master?"

"Yes, Padawan."

"The kettle."

"What about it?"

"Well, it's . . . screeching." Obi-Wan looked expectantly at him.

The Master simply shrugged, and the Padawan's tone jumped a notch, utterly bewildered.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

Obi-Wan's expression was none less than irritated, "Why are you letting it?"

"Why are _you_?" Qui-Gon replied in question, "It hasn't bothered you for the last . . . ten minutes. Though for what reason, I would like to know."

Obi-Wan winced to himself, noticing his own error as he often did, and was quick to respond to it, "I'm sorry, Master."

He only stood, moving to the kitchenette and retrieving two cups for their morning tea, switching off the kettle and leaving them in silence. Qui-Gon saw how Obi-Wan turned his back to him, how when he returned and poured their tea his tired eyes didn't chance upon his face. _Hiding,_ he mused sadly, _hiding again._

"Tired, young one?" Qui-Gon asked, holding up his hand to tell the boy he had poured him enough of the dark, steaming liquid.

Obi-Wan nodded, "Yes, Master."

"Did you sleep well last night?"

"No, Master." Obi-Wan sat softly and folded his hands in his lap. He didn't touch his tea.

Qui-Gon tried their bond gently as he studied the boys face, no words implied but a simple soothing caress, one he used to use after Obi-Wan's nightmares as a young boy, rubbing the small shoulders and hushing soft tears.

Obi-Wan felt the touch from his Master, Qui-Gon saw by the fleeting softening of his face, but he winced to himself, refusing to reply. A subtle but evident gesture that he knew meant, _I do not want to talk about it._

Qui-Gon gave a sigh. The boy was already pushing his patience, though that was something he often did, but today it was particularly sensitive. He had given him enough chances to freely confess. Now, he had to make him. "I'm hoping that when I ask you where you went last night, you will feel no need to make excuses in order to shorten my reprimand to just hiding and not lying."

Obi-Wan's surprise was palpable, and his frustration; Qui-Gon had expected that. He grimaced, finally replying not in question, but a low statement, "How did you know."

"Why you still think you could sneak away from me - _ever_ - surprises me." Qui-Gon sipped his tea, keeping his voice light and unaccusing, "Even in the night, in the drowsiness of sleep, I sensed you withdraw from our bond. A withdrawal not fully contained, for not soon after I felt your lingering unease, the same I sense from you now."

Obi-Wan bit his lip, fighting his eyes to stare at his untouched drink. He said nothing.

Qui-Gon grew impatient, seeing the subtle defiance flicker in his apprentices cool gaze, "Do not ignore me, Padawan. Where were you last night?"

"Nowhere."

"Were you with someone?"

The silence held for a while. Obi-Wan met Qui-Gon's gaze suddenly, realizing the implication, and his cheeks reddened.

"Master -"

"That was not what I meant, but I was going to get to that." Qui-Gon smiled a bit, but firmed his voice again, "Where were you, then?"

Obi-Wan stiffened even more, though he remained speechless.

Qui-Gon took a breath. Ignorance, no. Rudeness, no. Obi-Wan was, even if he did not realize it himself, far too proper to express himself in such a way. If he were upset, acting out was not his solution. Acting none at all, like he was then, that was more like him.

Obi-Wan, after a moment, replied under his breath in a voice laced with insult and smoldering emotion, one the Master rarely heard, "Do you think I would just go out and . . . pleasure myself for a night?"

"Not intentionally, and I would have no need to think such thoughts if you would tell me where you did go." Qui-Gon recognized the boys tone, saw the averted eyes grow bright.

"I would rather not say."

"Then that means I need to know -"

"Since when have my constant whereabouts been so crucial to you?" Obi-Wan lashed back, hands tensed from their place slighty hidden but revealing the resurfaced temper of his youth. "Why don't you just leave me alone?"

Qui-Gon swallowed, not allowing his own checked anger to seep into his voice as his Padawan's did. "Control yourself, my apprentice, for you are no more than a handsbreath away from taking this matter up with the Council."

Obi-Wan pursed his lips, breathing through his nose in harsh waves as he turned his eyes to his right, away from his Master.

"I do not and will not allow you to speak to me in this way, do you understand?" Qui-Gon paused, and his apprentice gave a faint nod, "It is evident, as you already know, that you are keeping something from me, and that it is my duty as your Master to find out what it is. It is unhealthy and unwise to hide things from me. If there is something upsetting you, I need to know."

Qui-Gon firmed his tone, implying the solemnity he wished to express, "I don't want you to hide anything from me."

Obi-Wan bit his lip hard, and for a fleeting moment, Qui-Gon saw a flashed desperation in the distant blue eyes, and was confused. _He has something to tell me._

"Obi-Wan."

"Yes, Master." The voice was quiet and strained.

"Tell me. Is there something troubling you?"

Obi-Wan hesitated before whispering. It was a solemn reply, one not of a young man defying his teacher for his own reputations sake, not an apprentice who had just had a fun, rebellious night, but of a youth under burden. Qui-Gon realized.

Obi-Wan's voice touched the words barely as they escaped his mouth, knowing what he was to say would defy Qui-Gon's command. He also knew he could say nothing else.

"No, Master."

A knock on the door interrupted Qui-Gon's start, and he considered ignoring it, though Obi-Wan's face relaxed at the sound. _Saved by the bell,_ he thought, as he rose to address their visitor.

Fingering the keypad, the door slid left to reveal Adriyn Gain, shouldering his travel pack and looking anxious as ever to leave the Temple. The olive eyes were light with cheer, but soon reflected the unease in Qui-Gon's, and he asked poignantly, "It's . . . it's time to go. Our team is set and the cruiser is ready. Is everything alright, Master Jinn?"

"Fine, Adriyn." Qui-Gon glanced back to Obi-Wan, who had already found his own bag and was waiting behind him expectantly. A clever way to further escape their discussion.

The Master studied his Padawan's face once more, knowing that the mission ahead of them was far too important to go into with this even small breach between them. _All things begin small, but they do not often stay that way._

Qui-Gon sighed, ushering the boy forward to his peer, "Run along, Padawan. We will leave this for another time."

Rarely had Obi-Wan seemed more eager to escape his Master's presence, he did not even reply as he slipped past Qui-Gon out the door and strolled quickly away by Adriyn's side.

Unease tormented him in the pit of his stomach as he watched the two Padawans, touching his own in their bond in a soft confirmation of it, and the boy responded gently the same. The Master closed his eyes, only partly soothed; he hoped Obi-Wan would come to reveal his hiddenness. He hoped that the boy would reconsider his words. And he hoped that when Obi-Wan had said, "No, Master", like all the other times he did that morning, they were the truth.

Qui-Gon turned to retrieve his travel bag and began after them toward the landing dock, knowing full well that hoping did not change reality. He knew that the words weren't true; Obi-Wan Kenobi had lied. Though, he still hoped more than anything else that he could figure out why.

* * *

"Nothing?"

"No, Siri, I didn't tell him anything." Obi-Wan glanced warily to the cockpit where his Master piloted, pulling their little ship up and out of the atmosphere, aside Master Gallia and Master Cla'i. Obi-Wan spoke under his breath to ensure they did not overhear their soft voices. Siri sat beside him on the bench in the small forward hold of the cruiser, face anxious and uneasy yet, none more fragile than last night.

Obi-Wan did not want to worry Siri, or upset her. He knew his Master was more than suspicious, but if he laid low and tried his hardest from then on to conceal himself, things may die down. He had been foolish to let his guard down so last night, enough to alert Qui-Gon, but he had none but cared then. Obi-Wan looked to Siri again, remembering why.

After holding her through her relieved tears, he had promised her last night that he would not tell. She had not yet told him of anything about the child, any father, any conception. Obi-Wan did not press yet, sensing such a matter was sensitive. _I will ask her when we arrive, when things settle down._

He realized that what he was doing could get him into a heap of trouble if overturned, but he had meant his promise, even if drawing away from his Master was part of the cost. Obi-Wan knew it was not a risk free road that they tread. He accepted it.

Giving a hopeful sigh and a reassuring smile that brightened Siri's darkened eyes into the clear blue he always loved to see, Obi-Wan spoke gently, with confidence, "I promised you, and I intend to keep it. But we have to keep quiet about it, or Adriyn -"

As if on a silent cue, Adriyn emerged from the other room, initially strolling but slowing to a stop when he saw the two sitting close together. His auburn eyebrows wrinkled, "Um . . . you guys cozy enough? There are extra blankets in with the supplies if you prefer, instead of cuddling."

Siri gave him a sidelong glance, and Obi-Wan hid his smile, "Why don't you go cuddle with a rancor?"

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean? I'm only trying to be helpful -"

"Well, try as you may, but it isn't helping."

Siri, despite Adriyn's teasing, made no move to retreat from Obi-Wan's side, and Adriyn shrugged as he took his own seat across from them. Obi-Wan was glad she was beside him, safe and protected. He touched the faint, gentle bond they had connected to each other the night prior, prompted by Obi-Wan to use during this tumultuous time, hidden safely from both of their Masters, and Siri responded to the sensation.

They shared a quick look with one another, and the moment was over, Adriyn beginning in another rant and Siri protesting his argument, Obi-Wan challenging them both and them becoming no more than comrades once again.

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Thanks for reading! Reviews always appreciated!


	7. Suspicions

**This is a short chapter, but I might post the next one soon . . . please review! (P.S., check out the link at the bottom for my sketches of Seikh...)**

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Douron, in perspective, was a fairly small, greenery deprived, sparsely populated desert moon. It rarely rained, never snowed, and scarcely could draw enough heat cause warmth. It was cool in the daylight of its triplet suns and inactive, stale; after dark, though, the surface came alive, harboring freezing temperatures and fierce winds, night creatures emerging for food and the sky glittering with stars.

Nearly the entire surface area was flat, no hills or valleys in the stubborn yellow dirt, and was covered by short, dry turf called _tomer_ grass and clusters of stick-like, leafless _ghashi_ trees. Few towns had been established randomly across its wide, dusty plains over the years, groups of clay houses built by settlers centuries past. Most towns were abandoned, and had been long ago.

The minute population of Douronian's that remained were never guaranteed a life of leisure. Due to the extremely dry climate, Douronians had no choice but to collect moisture from underground and grow their produce in few, taking sustenance elsewhere. They took up employment in the underground mining and cave tunnels, a slow but not unprofitable business that usually came up with useful minerals; in most part, though, its main market was spice mining.

_It seemed that nothing comes easy for this tiny moon,_ Obi-Wan mused to himself, looking up from the information file he had uploaded on his datapad back at the Temple to read on their long journey, and into the darkness of a Douronian twilight. The first word Obi-Wan had thought as he had stepped out of the tiny space port, stared out across the flat, bleached plains, shadowed by nothing in the moonlight, that extended for miles without end, and breathed in the stale, dry air, was barren.

Thus, their arrival did not exactly excite him, but summoned in him a wariness. He sensed their mission would be trying. And trying, he did not usually mind, but under the circumstances it was just something else to worry about.

Obi-Wan sighed and closed his datapad softly, glancing back at the forms of the others behind of him in the dimness. Adriyn, who paced along with him, glanced about the surface nervously. He frowned as he met Obi-Wan's eyes and covered his mouth with the sleeve of his robe, his words muffled as he spoke. "It smells like a wet Hutt out here."

"Thank you for that visual." Obi-Wan followed Adriyn's lead, masking the scent with his sleeve. The air around was thin and smelled of sulfur, which was a result of the subderranium, but the amount was not enough to harm them. That did not give Obi-Wan any comfort.

Master Cla'i strolled up beside Adriyn, giving his shoulder a comforting pat as he handed out their necessary air purifiers, which covered their mouths and noses in a clear mask. His face was nothing but distressed, mouth upturned in an expression any Jedi recognized as unease, movements unsteady as he fumbled to give Master Gallia her mask.

"Master Cla'i, do you sense something?" Adi asked, nonchalance in her tone that was usually firm. She adjusted her mask as she looked to him, "You look a bit harrowed."

The team was all aware of Gatham Cla'i's abilities in the Living Force, his unique hypersensitivity to minute fluctuations the rest of them could barely, if at all, sense. An apt skill, one he did not squander but instead kept to himself, one often needed to be coaxed from the humble Jedi.

The Master hesitated, reluctant at the question, but replied the answer they knew he had been withholding. "When I travel around the galaxy, different planets have different noises, like sound waves, in the Force. City planets are loud, rural planets subdued, planets at war dissonant and screeching. This planet is far too quiet, on the inside and out, for being in peril. Internally it should be buzzing, with the people or the distress, anything." Gatham's dark eyes grew distant, "All I sense is silence."

"Let's just hope that is a good thing." Qui-Gon said, his leonine features brightening as he smiled encouragingly, "Our presence here is not exactly . . . welcome."

"You did speak with the authorities, I hope?" Adi spoke with a warning tone, knowing full well of Qui-Gon's frequent skirting of rules.

"Never fear, Adi. We are granted access, but only for three days time. Any longer and the Douronian authorities will have us under arrest. So, I suggest we stay on the good side of the government. At least for now."

A wink followed his last words, and Obi-Wan shook his head, exasperated.

They continued to stroll along the desiccated land, dusty torrents of wind whipping throughout their robes, freezing and harsh. Soon, Obi-Wan spotted the Seikh Facility, sitting off-center along the horizon, stranded, it seemed. It had to have been at least 300 feet by length and width, and seemed like a long rectangle from his current point of view; Obi-Wan, though, looking upon his datapad then, knew from the transcript he was seeing that the building was really circular from above.

Jogging to catch his Master, Obi-Wan stated softly to him, "My datapad says this facility houses all one-point-five-hundred Seikh citizens, but by the looks of it . . . my data must be incorrect. It is far too small, don't you think Master?"

Qui-Gon acknowledged the observation with a nod, "It is, but your information is accurate. There is not much flaunt and fluff, is there? Why do you think this is, young one?"

Obi-Wan pursed his lips in thought, "Possibly a modest people, not wanting to attract too much attention."

"Though that they have done, haven't they? I suspect that they will be uncomfortable with and most likely unwelcoming of visitors."

"But if they are so secretive, then why do they refuse to leave?" Obi-Wan inquired with a touch of confusion to his words, whispering like the wind in their robes, "Would it not be wise of the Governor to avoid our uneasy visit and simply take our advice?"

"Yes." Qui-Gon's face was smooth in ponder, and Obi-Wan recognized it quickly. "There are two options, then: the Governor is very unwise, or he is hiding something. And often, those two go hand in hand; unwise choices are often the result of unwise secrets."

Qui-Gon looked to him with an all-knowing gaze, and Obi-Wan averted his own, squinting out at the bright moonlight reflecting from the Facility's shiny durasteel surface, a parched breeze stinging at his skin. He pulled his oversized hood over his short brown hair, feigning a chill but truly avoiding his Master.

_I cannot tell him, not after my promise - Siri trusts me . . . but am I being unwise?_

Obi-Wan winced to himself, sensing then how tense he was inside, like everything in him was being stitched in, tightening strands knitting his stomach. Siri's dangerous secret, the untruths told to his Master and to her, to Adriyn - all threads that bound him. One more stitch was pulled at the avoidance of Qui-Gon, and a gasp escaped him, one of frustration and unease. The Padawan closed his eyes for a moment, fighting the hindering emotions away, knowing they did nothing but distract him. The tightness, though, lingered.

Glancing upward, Obi-Wan realized that he'd fallen behind and jogged to catch up with the Jedi group approaching the building, hasty to escape the bitter winds, the freezing night air.

* * *

"I'm surprised they keep this place unlocked," Master Cla'i said as the group waited inside into a small, low ceilinged foyer. It was nothing fancy, and not even chairs were set out. A hallway stretched beyond them forward, and at its end was a thick durasteel blast door. Gatham's face wrinkled a bit at the pristine white walls, the stark white floors, the pale white ceiling. The interior of the Facility was less sleek than it had appeared from the outside. In fact, it was nearly boring.

"Nice colour scheme," Adriyn chuckled from his place leaning against the wall, fiddling with his purifier, but his Master grimaced.

"It is far too . . . clean."

"And for being home to thousands of beings, too quiet." Adi commented. The silence was evident, no footsteps or people noises. They had been waiting for some time, and Obi-Wan felt anxious. But that, though, was mostly due to Siri's apprehension, through their subtle bond. He glanced to her standing in the shadow of her Master, speaking gently through the Force.

_Are you alright?_ Obi-Wan watched Siri, her elegant features unmoving, unrevealing, though her clear blue eyes did tell him much.

_I feel very uneasy here._ She was blunt, direct, like Obi-Wan expected. _It's him._

Obi-Wan drew his brow together, _Whom?_

But he needed not ask. The doors at the halls end whined opened revealing a two humanoids, both dressed in an olive coloured uniforms. As they approached the group, they slowly revealed themselves to be Seikh. The creatures was bipedal, sporting many features alike to a regular humanoid. They each had a tapered nose and thin lips that were aligned perfectly with twin-pupiled eyes, one smaller and one larger eye in each socket. Shaved of virtually any hair, their faces seemed unsettling without the presence of eyebrows. The beings skin were as pale as the walls, almost white enough to be clear, and almost hinting a shade of pale blue, and two-fold ears framed their seemingly flawless faces.

"Welcome," The taller of the men started when they reached them, his subtly stressed face turning into a smile, "to the Seikh Facility. I regret to inform you that the Governor was not contacted before your arrival, and is therefore busy at the moment."

His voice was crisp and proper, his Douronian accent causing his "r"'s to roll and his words to be perfectly enunciated. A wave of silence overcame the foyer, as if each group were waiting on something from the other. Qui-Gon cleared his throat, arms folding impatiently. His eyes shot the Seikh a look all the Jedi were thinking; hadn't they had known the Jedi were coming?

The shorter and younger man spoke up then, but not after looking nervously at his comrade, "Who, may I ask, are you?"

Master Cla'i stepped forward, tone confused, "We're the Jedi investigation team . . . "

The men only stared, showing no recognition.

"From Coruscant?" Qui-Gon continued, eyebrows laced with suspicion, "Did you not receive our transmission? Have you not heard _anything_ about the threat to the Jedi Temple?"

"Or your Governor's responsibility in it?" Adi said, with warning.

They shrugged, looking clueless as ever. Obi-Wan looked quizzically to Siri, _You're anxious about . . . them?_

_No._ Siri bit her lip, eyes closing. _Him -_

A young humanoid man, around Obi-Wan's age he seemed, exited the door at the room's stern then, outfitted in a blue uniform. Although he only came up to the Seikh's shoulder, he was a fair amount taller than Obi-Wan; a cap was fitted tightly around his dark brown hair, and his thin lips were set in a glower below his slender nose and muddy brown eyes.

He was quick to send the Seikh away, though not without a sharp glare of reprimand, and took a deep bow before his visitors. "Masters Jedi, excuse our Watchmen, they were some of the few not informed of your visitation. I am General Haddon, head administrator of the Facility."

At his rising, he glanced them over, his eyes catching Siri's. The look was maybe just a bit lengthy. Obi-Wan did a subtle double-take, watching the General's eyes on hers, and something did not feel right. No, not right at all.

_Is he attracted to her?_ The thought was inevitable, and after all, he did look smitten worse than being flirted with by a Twi'lek. Obi-Wan frowned. A sensation in him lt on fire, one he recognized but could not pinpoint.

"Pleasure to see you again Master Gallia, Padawan Siri." Haddon smiled at the mention of her name, tipping his cap, and Siri smiled back. Obi-Wan could barely stop himself from lunging at him.

"And the rest of your team, welcome."

Qui-Gon gave a nod, the impatience on his face a bit more relaxed, "General. I assume the Governor is still caught up with something else?"

"I regret to report, but he is a busy man. We have been expecting you, Master Jedi, though we have been investigated not long ago, six months if my memory is correct." Haddon inclined his head slightly, "I was sent off with an approval, I am sure?"

"That is what we are here to discuss." Adi said smoothly, "With your Governor."

Haddon's eyes went anxious, and he muttered, "I . . . I understand. I presume this is concerning the problem on Coruscant with the Senate and your Jedi Sanctuary; we have already taken into consideration additional security while you are here –"

"That isn't necessary, General." Qui-Gon interrupted gently, from Obi-Wan's side, "Our stay here will not be long if we can have word with Governor Amos."

The hesitation was unmistakable, and Haddon smiled nervously. "He won't be able to speak with you until tomorrow, at the earliest But we have prepared your accommodations. If it is no too much of a burden to wait until the coming day."

The question was more so a request than anything else, and the Masters gave each other a look before Qui-Gon spoke for them, "A burden easily shouldered."

General Haddon nodded thanks, proceeding away down the hall with a gesture for them to follow. As they did, Obi-Wan tried to meet Siri's eyes, the ones she had been avoiding ever since Haddon had appeared. A wince found him, and he felt another stitch in him bind, one laced with suspicions and uneasiness. So soon, and she was hiding from him again. He didn't know who Haddon was, or why Siri and him seemed so . . . friendly. He wasn't sure if what he supposed was true or not. Obi-Wan knew one thing, though.

He had something very important to ask Siri.

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**Thanks for reading! Reviews appreciated! Here's the link...** _( _geeba79_.deviantart._com_/#/d5gvi7z)_


	8. Discussions

_**First, sorry for not updating sooner, business and crazy Sandy has got things crazier! Thank you**_ **Tavae Themisal, nineteennintytwo, Annabel Willow, Jedi Kay-Kenobi, and Lillafiore** _**for reviewing! I love you guys! Thanks if I didn't mention you too, and please review! It really inspires me to keep writing! Here it is . . .**_

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". . . I don't get him. He seems like he is totally masking himself." Adriyn shifted his folded legs on his sleeping mat, fanning the cards in his hands. "Do you have. . . 'knowledge'?"

Obi-Wan shook his head, glancing at his cards to be sure. Adriyn drew another blue card from the deck between them.

"It seems to me that he feels like he is bothered by us and this problem altogether." Obi-Wan replied, scratching his chin, "Do you have 'emotion'?"

"Nope." Adriyn replied, "Do you have 'serenity'?"

"No."

The three youth sat in their Facilitation area, restless to sleep at the early evening hour though encouraged by their Masters to do so. The area they were staying in was a comparatively small room, outfitted with only a sleep couch, a food heater, a small dining table, and a Holoscreen, all of which were white. The simplicity reminded Obi-Wan of his own quarters in the Jedi Temple, and he felt at ease.

Obi-Wan found no desire to rest as he played a game of cards with Adriyn, discussing and pondering about the Governor of the Facility, General Haddon, and the feelings he had emitted.

"I think that the Governor is ignorant. Why doesn't he want to talk to us? We shouldn't have to tell him twice that he could die any day now . . . how about . . . 'peace'?"

Obi-Wan handed Adriyn his card labeled "peace" and the other grinned as he laid down his match. They were playing Virtue, a simple card game that younglings used to memorize the tenets of the Jedi Order. The object was to simply match the virtue with its opposite, "knowledge" with "ignorance", "mercy" with "revenge", and "emotion" with "peace", to name a few. Since both of their Master's disapproved of sabbac, it was one of the few games that Obi-Wan and Adriyn had ever played with each other and they had continued playing it into their youth. It became somewhat of a tradition, to sit and play and discuss.

"He has lived most of his life as superior, the person in charge. I don't think he knows how to listen to the opinions of others –"

"Or he is just stubborn and ignorant, like Adriyn said." Siri interrupted Obi-Wan. She was downloading something into her datapad, only glancing up for a moment as she spoke to her peers from her mat lined up beside theirs. "I think you're underestimating Amos."

"I never said he was stubborn." Adriyn challenged, picking up a card from the deck, "And what is there to underestimate? Your turn Obi . . ."

Obi-Wan nodded, studying his cards, "He is stubborn though. He has refused help from the Republic Refugee Sheltering Committee seven times."

"True." Adriyn said, "And I didn't like Haddon. He seemed awfully strange, distant . . . suspicious."

Obi-Wan agreed. A suspect was only as suspicious as their crime. And the crime the Padawan was tempted to accuse him of was something not thrown about lightly. Subconsciously, blue-grey eyes looked upon Siri, though she did not see him in his examination, and a tendril grasped his heart -

"Obi? Hello?!"

Obi-Wan snapped back. "What?"

Adriyn stared at him with his olive eyes. "There you go again. Do you have 'passion' or what?"

"Oh. Yes. Do you have 'ignorance'?"

"Yep. I still don't get why we're here. Why don't we just –"

"I win." Obi-Wan said, "The deck's gone, and you only have . . . two matches."

Adriyn glanced at his cards with a downcast expression. "Best two out of three?"

"Adriyn, you've been playing for nearly an hour!" Siri protested, "We have to get to sleep soon."

"Already?" The two protested in unison, and Siri laughed. Adriyn was simply being himself, opposed to curfew like always, but Obi-Wan had objected, however, because he still had not asked Siri about . . . he did not want to even speak the name. About Haddon. If anything was going on, he needed to get to the bottom of it quickly, before anything - or anyone - else did. He kew she would not want to speak of it. That did not mean that he could avoid asking.

"Just one more game? I haven't won yet!" Adriyn pleaded, putting on a face of exaggerated sorrow.

"We'll play again." Obi-Wan replied to Adriyn, averting his gaze to Siri's. "After Siri and I clean up from dinner."

Siri gave him a quizzical look, but followed him to the kitchenette on the wall, over to the tiny sink. "That was a bad excuse." She said quietly, once Obi-Wan turned the tap on, the sound of the running water masking their voices. Obi-Wan began to scrub at a tray. "You look tired." He whispered to her, hoping she would respond.

"Tired of listening to you and Adriyn talk."

"That's not what I meant."

Siri grabbed a soapy tray and began to dry it with a rag. "I know you didn't get my attention to just ask me that. What is it?"

Obi-Wan was hesitant, reluctant. "I need to ask you something."

Siri sensed his solemnity, and responded by closing herself off from him coldly, growing defensive, "About what?"

"Shh." He hushed her sharp tone, glancing back at Adriyn who was lying on his mat, his hands folded over his mid-section, twiddling his thumbs. He turned to her again, "Do not shut yourself away from me -"

"If I don't, someone else may grow suspicious." Siri gestured her head ever-so-slightly to Adriyn again, "Now hurry up and ask me."

"It isn't that simple, Siri. This is important." Obi-Wan watched her, her eyes staring at the sink and avoiding his own. She was biting her lip, but truly holding her tongue, fighting back words and protest; they had promised each other not to hide, but it was killing her to say the truth. She set down the rag harshly and turned from him, retreating from the situation, but he grabbed her forearm to stop her -

"Siri -"

"Don't touch me!"

"_Hey_!"

The two shot their eyes to Adriyn, who had sat up and was studying them with both surprise and confusion. Obi-Wan, realizing he still grasped Siri's arm, felt her tug it away angrily, her aura in the Force brimming with the same emotion. He felt stung with it, just as upset.

"What's up?" Adriyn asked, and Obi-Wan said softly, allowing none of the frustration he fought with into his voice, "Nothing."

"We should get to bed." Siri retreated from him, flicking off the light and lying down on her mat, the only light illuminating from the power light on the Holoscreen. It was very quiet. Obi-Wan sighed, finding his own spot beside Adriyn who he could still see vaguely in the dark, a question in his eyes. Obi-Wan did not answer it, turning over and closing his eyes, but not sleeping. He felt stiff, rigid, cold. How dare she treat him like this, like his concern meant nothing, his care.

_My care. _He did still care for her, possibly in more ways than one. He only wanted for them to trust one another, and arguments like these were not helping. Before, when he was younger, he would have had no problem letting Siri wallow in her own secrecy, but then, he was above it. He cared for her enough not to.

_Maybe I was too blunt with her; maybe I need to be patient. _He shut the thoughts out. If she wanted to be that way, he would not bother trying to convince her otherwise. They had a mission to accomplish, and could not let their private struggle hinder it. Obi-Wan Kenobi turned onto his stomach, rested his head in his hands, and watched Siri Tachi until he fell into restless sleep.

* * *

The next morning, the Jedi were escorted by a Seikh woman to a room, which was almost identical to the plain foyer they had been in the previous day, to speak with the Governor. The Jedi, who, of course, were completely open to whatever the Governor had to say, had agreed to wait for him in the close-cornered area. Minutes upon minutes had passed, and Obi-Wan had begun to tap his foot, an action that he thought could relieve a portion of the impatience that he felt. His eyes searched his comrades faces as they all sat on the crescent shaped couch that circled the room. They all seemed calm in the Force, anxious maybe. They all looked tired, especially Siri, who sat beside her Master, her clear blue eyes distant. The scent of the herbal tea that was set on a small table in the middle of the room filled the area with its crisp, fragrant aroma; only Master Cla'i was sipping on a small glass.

Obi-Wan felt his Masters stare on him, and, remembering the absentminded action of tapping his foot, ceased the gesture.

"The Douronians are not a very punctual people." Obi-Wan mumbled softly to Qui-Gon. The Jedi Master stroked his beard, pondering his apprentices' observation. "Their ways may not be our ways, Padawan." He replied quietly.

"Then what are their ways? Do you think Amos won't leave Douron because we, the Jedi, are telling him to? Is it not a bit irrational to ignore those warning you of death?"

Qui-Gon turned his head and caught Obi-Wan's gaze. "If that is his mindset, then we must convince him otherwise."

Obi-Wan nodded, "Yes, Master." It still was a puzzling thought, but Obi-Wan knew not to let his mind wander on it for too long, for it was what was then and there that he should be aware of.

The room's small door opened, and the Governor entered the room, dressed in a black uniform, smiling sincerely, or maybe deceitfully, Obi-Wan could not tell; he couldn't nab exactly what the Governor felt in the Force either. He appeared to be like any other Seikh male, his eyes a piercing hazel and his stature just a bit more regal than the others. He spoke smoothly, nodding his head on occasion, "How excellent it is to be in the company of Jedi once again. I apologize for waking you at this early hour, and for my absence last night. I am a very busy man."

"No trouble." Master Cla'i said, arising from his seat simultaneously with the others.

Amos smiled again, "Wonderful then, so may I lead you into the hall where we can begin our excursion around the Facility?"

The Jedi exited the room hastily, and followed behind the Governor down a lengthy white hallway as he began to speak. "The Seikh Clan was once, decades ago, housing for Douronians who themselves could not find residence elsewhere. We provided nourishments, a place to work, and overall a way of life in the Facility."

The group turned a corner into another hall; the walls around them replaced by glass that viewed into areas far below them. Inside showed Seikh citizens packaging boxes with dry food rations, clothes and other items and setting them into the end compartment of a transport speeder.

"Soon, however, the Facility found itself in severe poverty, some of it due to the occasional overflow of citizens, but a large amount from inhabitants who stole and looted our supplies. My father at the time was the current Governor, and I, wanting to aid the Seikh citizens, decided to join a bounty hunter union and hopefully come up with the funds to support the Facility."

"A bounty hunter union?" Adriyn whispered into Obi-Wan's ear, discreetly enough to be unnoticed, "That's practical."

Obi-Wan knew that Adriyn was being sarcastic, but he personally didn't think it was something to tease.

"Unfortunately, I became very . . . successful, you could say, in my new occupation, and my headstrong youth got the better of my actions. I decided to keep my funds, and live on my own; it went on for years before my coalition was caught by the Douronian government, and I returned to the Facility. By then, my father had died, and the Facility was being funded by Thym-Lad-Borat. So, I decided to reclaim my position as Governor, and refine the Seikh Clan back to its usual rituals."

Exiting the foyer, Amos led the group into a second door. "This," Amos started, "Is the accommodation of the Clan members."

All along the lengthy hallway was transparasteel, letting prying eyes see easily into each facilitation area. "The areas are specially formulated to fit the needs of each of the family members."

The areas were separated by slender walls, and each of them held the same items as the Jedi's had; a bed, a food heater, a couch, and a small Holoscreen. All the things were white, corresponding with the Seikh's uniforms. The Seikh men and women inside the areas glared curiously at the Jedi, stopping their current actions and watching them until they strolled away; the Seikh children, however, gaped in wonder at the guests, some children pressing their bluish-tinged hands on the glass to look even closer at them.

"The Seikh are an interdependent species, surviving and prospering very much more efficiently in groups than if living single-handedly. We are very strong to our belief that the key to contentment is concord, and the key to prosperity is unity. That is why we are the Seikh Clan of Prosperity, for we do not spend our prosperity on material things, but in the satisfaction that comes from our family."

As the group traveled down the long hallway, the Governor led them through another door, and they entered a large, dome-shaped room with a spherical floor and many doors that lined the rounded walls. The walls and flooring were impressed with marble-like patterns in pale and tan shades of white, melding with each other like pieces of a fluid puzzle. Faint sunlight shone through the skylight on the ceiling, heating the cool room and causing it to appear very illuminated and brilliant.

"This is the Centre Vestibule, containing a passageway to any section of the Facility." Amos folded his hands behind his back, his eyes tracing the ceiling, "The sun causes the marble mineral in this room to change its structure molecularly, triggering its density to become soft and take in the sunlight; we call it 'sun streaking'. Marvelous, isn't it?"

"I have never seen anything alike," Qui-Gon remarked, and his Padawan noticed suspicion hinted in his Master's eyes, "Where does this material come from?"

Amos turned his head sharply to meet his gaze, "Exhumed by local miners from the moons of Iego," He replied, without flinching.

"It must have cost a large sum of money," said Adi, reaching out to stroke the glossy surface of the wall, her fingers tracing the seemingly intricate designs, but eyes still on Amos.

"I purchased it in my earlier years;" Amos said leisurely, "The cost doesn't essentially matter in my opinion."

Obi-Wan strolled to Adriyn's side, sensing the tension increase between Amos and them; Adriyn tightened his lips, a sign Obi-Wan took as unease.

Qui-Gon ambled closer to Amos, "In your opinion? Does your opinion only ignore the cost of material things, or the things physical?"

"You imply specifics, I assume." Amos spoke curtly, almost as if he sought to rub Qui-Gon the wrong way, "And I have been informed of the bombing of your Jedi School, do not fret, and am deeply remorseful."

"We are not here concerning our _Temple_, Governor." Adi stressed the word, bothered clearly by his blunt use of "school"; she stood aside Qui-Gon, direct in form and stare, "But what I think my comrade is implying is your ignorance of the cost of the lives of your people. What are they of worth to you?"

"The worth of a life is not mine to state, or yours for that matter. When it all is said and done, all know that if put to it one would save himself above another -"

"On the contrary, it is the duty of the Jedi to put others before oneself, to place themselves the lowest in sake of another." Qui-Gon corrected, "We have things to discuss, Amos, not to see who has the most eloquent tongue -"

"Clearly." Amos snapped back, and before he could go on, General Haddon exited the turbolift at the rooms stern, pace quick and urgent. He was tightening his cap and brushing down his uniform as he bowed to the group, fixating his eyes on Siri; Obi-Wan watched them lock gazes momentarily, and Haddon's already flushed face deepened. Obi-Wan, sparked with frustrated suspicion, met Haddon's glare, and the general narrowed his sullen eyes back at the Jedi.

"This is General Haddon . . ." Amos started, but Haddon turned to the Governor just a little, looking to him with tense eyes and whispering, "Your presence is required on level 7-B, your Superiority. I'm afraid we have a bit of a situation."

Amos nodded slowly, turning to give the Jedi a bit of a pleading gaze, "I'm sorry, my guests, but if you will excuse me . . ."

"No trouble." Master Cla'i spoke up, "We'll manage fine here."

"You are free to further explore around the Facility." Amos finished, "A mid-day meal will be served to your accommodation areas shortly."

"Thank you for your time Governor." Adi said, smiling warmly.

Amos bowed to the group of Jedi, a grin painted on his own face, "Thank you."

The Governor and General turned back down the hallway that he came, leaving the Jedi alone in the foyer. Obi-Wan folded his arms and glanced toward his Master, whose own gaze was fixed where the Governor departed. "Master, are you sure the suspicions of Amos are correct?"

After a pause, Qui-Gon finally broke his gaze, and replied, "I'm almost sure Padawan."

The Jedi began to stroll towards the turbolift, silent in deep contemplation.

"Are we to continue here much longer?" Obi-Wan questioned, "The Facility seems ideal to me."

"Be mindful of your thoughts, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon replied, a distance in his voice, "It is not the Facility that we are concerned about."

* * *

Obi-Wan awoke into darkness, and rolled over. His eyes ached from drowsiness, and he pulled his thin sleeping sheet closer to his face. His body was spent from the extra time used up exploring the Facility; nothing he had seen had concerned him in the least. _Why help someone who doesn't want the help?_ Adriyn's words seemed almost intellectual at this point. And after scrutinizing all the faults or problems the Facility could posses, the possibilities he had thought of were irrational.

It was at times like this when Obi-Wan questioned the Jedi Council, times when he was tired and drained and fed up. But it was also times like this when he reminded himself that the Council was wise and he was . . . young, and he usually questioned a lot of things. Obi-Wan fought back a yawn, remembering that he had to sleep. It was still silent in the dismal facilitation area, besides Adriyn's muffled snore, his own quiet breathing, and Siri's . . .

Obi-Wan listened for Siri's usual soft inhaling and exhaling. He rubbed his face and turned to face Siri's cot. He expected to see the form of her slender body, her soft blonde hair strewn across her head rest. "Siri," Obi-Wan whispered, lifting himself upright on his forearms. He waited for her delicate voice to answer; silence.

He reached out his arm onto her cot, but he knew in the Force, that the cot was empty. Obi-Wan sighed and rose to his feet. He should have expected Siri to do something foolish; why hadn't he awoken when she left? Pulling out a finger-sized glowrod form his belt, he paced stealthily toward the door.

Tiny green lights light up the dark, long hall sending an eerie glow all around. Obi-Wan quickened his pace, trying his hardest to keep quiet. _Why would she have the desire to explore around at this time?_ Obi-Wan thought, turning a corner. But he knew it was typical for Siri, to go about and do things on her own. Slowing his pace, Obi-Wan sensed a presence ahead of him, wary and still. He paused, and continued on forward, raising his glowrod in front of him.

_Why wouldn't she just- _Obi-Wan felt the same presence once again, but this time from behind. He stopped, confused, and listened. Silence . . . .

Turning on his bare feet, he walked back the hall the way he had entered. But again he sensed the presence from behind him, growing nearer. Tucking the glowrod away, Obi-Wan grabbed his lightsaber from his belt and listened closely. _It's probably just a small night creature, following the light of the glowrod in search of food._ Obi-Wan twisted around; he paced down the hall, rotating the lightsaber in his hand.

The presence followed. Obi-Wan ignited his weapon.

"Come out," he threatened, his blue-white blade thrumming in the silence.

"Obi-Wan?" It was Siri's voice. Obi-Wan glanced upward, to find Siri hanging with her hands from a water pipe connected through the ceiling. "What –"

"I was just looking around." Siri said, shifting her grip, "I don't feel comfortable here. I feel an . . . uneasiness, like something's not right. I didn't find anything, anyway."

Obi-Wan stared at her as she landed gracefully in front of him. "So you just decided, on a whim, to go out and get into trouble?"

"I was just looking around." Siri confessed, "I thought I heard General Haddon-"

"And you went _looking_ for him?" Obi-Wan said, forcefully but gently, "Did you see the way he looks at you Siri? If there is anyone more suspicious than the Governor, it's him."

Siri nodded, her eyes distant as if trying to reject the information. "I know."

Suddenly, a slight stirring caught Obi-Wan's attention, and he switched his gaze beyond Siri to see a small rectangular droid peeking it's photoreceptor out from behind the walls corner. The droid hovered a good six feet above the ground, with one black, arrowhead stripe on its white durasteel casing; it didn't notice Obi-Wan as he studied it carefully. This droid meant that the Governor was spying on them. And not only spying, but searching for information to use against them. And that meant if this droid was returned to Amos, the Jedi's position as harmless dignitaries would change.

"Siri," Obi-Wan whispered, "Don't move."

Siri, still frustrated, folded her arms over her chest. "Obi-Wan, this isn't funny –"

"Siri!" He repeated urgently, emphasizing his seriousness in the Force, "Listen, just don't move."

The droid's scarlet eye flickered, picking up the change in conversation.

"Obi-"

"Shh!"

Siri wrinkled her face, "What is it?!" She turned, and the droid instantly fled, speeding off down the hallway. Obi-Wan ran after it, and Siri followed, both being as silent and fast as possible, using the Force as their guide to the droid that was nowhere in their view.

"Why don't you _listen_ to me?!" Obi-Wan whispered hoarsely.

"Because it came out of nowhere! You could have signaled me that we were being watched!"

"If you wanted me to scare it off, I would have!"

"Anything else?!"

"You could have _listened_ to me for once!"

The two turned down another long hallway and through the darkness finally faintly saw the droid's scarlet antennae bobbing along. Siri ignited her violet lightsaber to bring in more light, and Obi-Wan followed; the droid was increasing speed as they were gaining ground. They both were running at full momentum, their bare feet slapping the cold floor, their breaths harsh but controlled, and not nearly as loud as the droids sharp humming.

The droid zipped into the turbolift at the end of the hall, and the doors began to close slowly; Obi-Wan halted, outstretched his hand and called on the Force to keep the turbolift open, while Siri kept running toward the droid. Not surprisingly, the little machine bolted back out of the 'lift and sped past Siri, hovering dangerously close to the ground, and zipped between her feet, just barely fast enough to miss her violet blade.

Obi-Wan reacted quickly and switched his grip from the door to the droid, to stop it mid-air. For some strange reason, the droid didn't stop motionless as he had predicted; it went past him so fast, Obi-Wan didn't have time to think.

"Obi-Wan!" Siri shouted, running back after the droid, her face unimpressed.

"I couldn't stop it!" He replied, jogging along beside her. "It resisted the Force-"

"Resisted it? That's impossible!"

"Well, either I didn't switch fast enough or it didn't work!"

The droid, this time, took a different route, leading the two down flights of stairs and past halls they hadn't seen before. "Where are we?" Siri panted; she looked tired. Obi-Wan realized that he had seen Siri tired so often lately that he dismissed it, and he shrugged; Siri pressed again, "Obi-Wan, we can't just chase this thing forever!"

"Eventually-"

"When's eventually? We've been running after this thing for who-"

"Well maybe we wouldn't be if you wouldn't have snuck off to find Haddon in the first place."

Siri suddenly halted her pace, and Obi-Wan stopped beside her as she turned back to face him, "Excuse me? You're saying this is my fault?"

With the option available, Obi-Wan took a chance of asking something Siri would refuse to answer, "Haddon doesn't happen to have anything to do with . . . ?"

"Obi-Wan, you know he doesn't. I-"

"When was the last time you were here?"

Siri hesitated, ". . . Six months ago –"

"Right around the time you got pregnant."

Siri crossed her arms. "You can't just go around accusing every single man you see -"

"Then tell me!"

"Tell you what? Tell you you're the only person I ever cared about? Tell you that I wouldn't dare betray something between us that never happened?" Siri spat the words, and Obi-Wan spat back to her.

"Something that never happened?"

"I know you have feelings for me!"

Obi-Wan felt his stomach twist, cold and sick, and his cheeks grew hot. He stammered, "I -I . . . that isn't true!"

"You're upset because you didn't think I'd care for anyone else like I almost did for you!"

"_Almost_ did?"

"You heard me! I hate it when you repeat everything!"

"Well I hate it when you're so irritable!"

"Well I hate it when I find loiterers in the halls."

The voice was new, not his or Siri's. Obi-Wan switched his gaze . . . to see General Haddon at the end of the hallway with the arrowhead droid.

The General looked like he had been awoken from sleep, his brown hair disheveled, his cap askew, his navy suit wrinkled and his mood in the Force still unreadable, just as the Governor's was. Haddon cleared his throat, his eyebrows raised; he folded his arms over his chest as he strolled over to face Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan's feet felt colder than ever as he held Haddon's muddy brown glare, and that faint trickle of suspicion returned as strong as it did the first time he felt it.

"Jedi Knight, I never did get a proper introduction." Haddon outstretched a bare hand, "Call me Haddon. Just Haddon."

Obi-Wan took the hand and shook it limply, "Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I'm not a Knight yet."

Haddon seemed frozen for a few moments, but recovered and smiled. "I see. And your friend here is . . . ?"

Siri stepped over to the two, "Siri Tachi." She said softly, also taking Haddon's hand, "I believe we've met before."

People usually didn't care for proper introductions, but everything at the Facility, it seemed, was proper; Obi-Wan felt as if he knew the name of every being there, from random encounters. Though the gesture, he felt, was a pleasantry used to soothe visitors, to make them feel as if the Facility was nothing to worry about.

Haddon's smile turned into a sly smirk, "Yes." He mused softly, "I remember. I trust you are still well?"

Siri nodded, and Haddon wrapped his other hand around hers, raised it to his mouth and kissed it. Obi-Wan felt something flash in Haddon finally – but the emotion made Obi-Wan grow aggravated very quickly. _Attraction_.

"Now what are you Jedi doing out so late?" Haddon clicked out of the corner of his mouth, and the spy droid zipped to his side like an obedient pet. "2-N says you were . . . practicing lightsaber drills?"

"No, not at all." Obi-Wan said, looking to Siri for help. Siri shook her head, "I was feeling a bit . . . uneasy, so I took a stroll. My comrade thought I was . . . someone else. We're sorry to alert your droid."

"No need for apology, Jedi Tachi-"

"Siri."

"Siri, if you are ever in need of assistance here, I will always be happy to help you. My security droid is on look-out for loiterers, and simply thought you were up to mischief. Unfortunately, I must depart before His Superiority finds me off guard."

Anxious to leave Haddon alone, Obi-Wan said, "We must be going. Good night, General."

Haddon nodded, "2-N will show you to the 'lift." The "security" droid sped to their side and buzzed along ahead of them eagerly. "And, to inform you, it is encouraged to say 'may you find prosperity'; the Governor feels it is more suit. May you find Prosperity."

Obi-Wan masked a smile and turned away, pulling Siri along with him. She writhed out of his grip and followed slowly and silently. They sauntered quietly for minutes, Obi-Wan agitated and his temper flared. "Siri, I want to trust you." He blurted after a moment, slowing to her pace. "I do. But Haddon –"

The droid turned a corner sharply, and they sped up to catch it. "Haddon . . . did you feel –"

"Yes." Siri seemed annoyed, her gaze forward and unwavering. "I did. I felt it just as you did, Obi-Wan."

"Then you understand why I doubt you?"

"No."

2-N twirped, slowing as they approached the turbolift, and zipped inside.

"Why not? I don't understand –"

"Why even doubt anyway? Either believe me or don't!"

"It's not that simple –"

"Yes, it is!"

The two stepped in, the doors hissing closed. "I know that _you_ would never like _him_ –"

"What?" Siri exclaimed. "What does that mean?!"

Obi-Wan was about to reply when the lights in the 'lift began to flicker, and the hum of the turbo-engine ceased. "What . . . was that?"

"Shh!" Siri hushed, and the lights shut off completely; the Force grew tense, and Obi-Wan grew nervous. 2-N, who hummed sharply from the corner of the 'lift, droned a series of low, long notes, and it switched it's photoreceptor from blue to red. Something in the Force told Obi-Wan that the innocent little droid . . . wasn't.

Obi-Wan felt Siri's hand grab tightly to his arm. "Don't move; I think –"

Her voice faded into jumbled words as Obi-Wan felt a strange sense of ecstasy wave over him seconds before pain and darkness.

* * *

_**Thanks for reading! Also, I'm looking for a beta and am a beta, so if your interested in being mine or me being yours, PM me! ~ Ellisaed**_


	9. Ideas

**_Hello! Not much to say, but thanks to all my reviewers - Taeve Themisal, nineteennintytwo and Jedi Kay-Kenobi! I will be sure to make the next chap. soon!_**

* * *

Morning had come quickly upon Douron so it seemed, Qui-Gon Jinn still not used to the shorter rotational cycles, and he had come out of his meditation easily, knowing he had to check up on the Padawan's. His back was stiff from sitting cross-legged during the night, not as resilient as he was once; the Master stretched, hearing bones snap back to life as he rose and gave a yawn.

He was been careful to ensure he did not disturb Adi Gallia and Master Cla'i whom where still resting, and had crossed the hall and opened their apprentices accommodation area door, not at the least expecting what he would see. Wrinkly sheets strewn and thrown across empty sleeping mats, a cup on the countertop, inclusive silence.

_An empty room_, Qui-Gon said to himself, _and I hope this wasn't Obi-Wan's foolish idea._

After their exhausting excursions that had been accomplished previous day, Siri, Obi-Wan and Adriyn had been exhausted, and to have left their room in the night, or even the morning, was surprising. For them to have left without consent at all, that was what Qui-Gon did not fathom; in a place unfamiliar in the least. Sighing to himself, he strolled quietly back into his facilitation area. The faint lights glowing from the white ceiling above were brightening slowly, imitating an early morning sunrise.

Qui-Gon felt a yawn creep up his throat again, and a wave of exhaustion overwhelmed him for a moment. He knew it was still dawn and he had missed a few precious hours of sleep, but he couldn't waste time with their Padawans potentially missing, and cleared his throat to awaken his comrades.

Adi, whom sat cross-legged like he had upon the floor, opened one of her blue eyes, cool focus centered in the single stare. She was not, Qui-Gon had learned, a morning person. He didn't doubt why. "What is it?"

At the sound Master Cla'i sat up abruptly from his sleep mat, mumbling groggily, "Is there something wrong Master Qui-Gon?"

"Our Padawans are missing."

"Missing?" Adi exclaimed, "What do you mean by 'missing'?"

"Exactly that. They're not in their facilitation room, and quite frankly I don't know where they are."

Master Cla'i looked unimpressed. "I thought you had instructed them to lock their door?"

"It seems that they left their room Gatham," Adi said, "Someone didn't get in; our Padawans left."

"But where would they go?" The room was silent in contemplation, and only a few seconds passed before Master Cla'i finalized, "I don't know."

Qui-Gon and Adi both gave him a humorless stare.

"We shouldn't come to a decision so abruptly Master." Adi said, pulling out her comlink, "I'll try and call them."

"You are partially correct Gatham," Qui-Gon stated. "Since we have little knowledge of the Facility, they could be anywhere-"

"Then we must search for them!" Master Cla'i declared, rising quickly, throwing his tan robe over his shoulders and heading for the door, "We can't waste time-"

"Slow down," Qui-Gon said in a half-amused laugh. "We cannot go wandering about the Facility without consent, despite the circumstance. I'm sure they are not in any danger."

"The danger of causing trouble, especially with my Adriyn." Master Cla'i noted, face wrinkled in concern. Adi hung up her comlink, looking downcast, "No answer. I tried Siri's, Obi-Wan's and Adriyn's."

"So, are they alright? What should we do?" Master Cla'i's distress increased twofold, and the area grew quiet again, for a longer and more intense time; Qui-Gon studied the Masters faces as they pondered, for any hint of an initiative.

"We should talk with the Governor. Our responsibility to this mission is still present, despite our Padawans absences." Adi stated, and Qui-Gon agreed.

"With the high level security, I doubt they can manage any trouble." His expression changed, pondering, "We have squandered too much time already, and have none to waste. In and out: we resolve the Governors obstinance, find our Padawans, and head back to Coruscant."

Qui-Gon sighed, knowing as the others did the thin chance of that happening. Adi raised a brow, and Gatham shrugged as he finished, "Hopefully."

* * *

Obi-Wan felt his head pulse steadily as he slowly opened his heavy eyelids. His eyes stung at the bright lights above him, and he breathed in a sluggish breath, trying to become aware of where he was. He was laid flat on a hard surface, and he felt pain radiate up and down his body as he tried to move.

". . . and General Haddon ordered a thorough check of each 'lift. This is the only one we've found with a body inside - does it _look_ like this is the one?"

"Affirmative, Watchman, but shouldn't we contact the General before disposing it?"

Obi-Wan turned his head, seeing four booted feet and olive pant legs; Watchmen. But what were they doing -

Confusion whirled in Obi-Wan's mind and he sat up suddenly, startled by the fact that he did not know where he was. He blinked his pounding eyelids, hoping to clear the blur of green before him and heard a shout, "Hey! He's alive!?"

Obi-Wan felt a rush of adrenaline, and he instinctively rose and ran out into a hall lined with facilitation areas. He could hear the boot steps following, but his legs seemed to carry him quickly - and in a flash, he chose a room, unlocked it with the Force, and slammed the door behind him.

The Padawan breathed heavily, sliding down the door to the floor, trying to cling to and grasp scattered memories. He calmed himself in the Force, skimming through his memory to try and fathom what had happened to him.

His efforts were disturbed by the soft cry of an infant. His head still slightly spinning, he looked around and saw a child squirming in a bassinet, which looked like a large bowl with a round transparasteel cover, on the floor below him. The child was a female by her pale pink hat, which accentuated her pale blue eyes; she ceased her wailing as her eyes met with Obi-Wan's, flailing her arms and kicking her tiny legs. With the presence of the female infant, Obi-Wan knew there must have been another presence close by.

"H-hello . . . ?" A small voice squeaked, in a Douronian accent. " . . . Hello?"

Obi-Wan's eyes scanned the room slowly, and he was startled to see the form of a Seikh boy, around four or five, staring at him from behind a white item, his light blue dual eyes filled with surprise and admiration.

"Hello," he squeaked, in his Douronian accent, "You're in my facilitation area."

Obi-Wan nodded, still unsure.

"I'm Dedian." The little boy exclaimed, approaching him and thrusting out his tiny arm. Obi-Wan nodded and shook Dedian's hand. Dedian studied the Jedi for a moment, and Obi-Wan waited to see what the boy would do next. "Do you have any food? Are you hungry, because I have food if . . . if you want some."

Dedian scurried off, out of Obi-Wans view, and returned to him with a piece of stale wheat bread in his tiny fist. Obi-Wan accepted the bread, ripping off a small piece and chewing it gingerly. Dedian shoved his little hands into his white coverall pockets, and took a seat beside Obi-Wan on the floor. "Where did you come from?"

Suddenly, Obi-Wan felt the memories of the previous night, finding Haddon and his spy droid and running down the cold hallways, snap back into his mind abruptly, and he finally remembered what must have happened. _Siri, us inside of the turbolift . . . and that droid._ He felt lethargic and tired; the familiarity of it hit him. He had been drugged. The little droid must have drugged him.

_But why?_ _Had General Haddon wanted to kill us? Did the droid drug Siri too? Or did it spare her because Haddon didn't want her harmed?_ Obi-Wan felt the familiar feeling hit his stomach as he remembered Siri, and wondered where she was, if she was alright. The situation here was deeper, more complex than Obi-Wan thought. The Force, like he had seen back at the Temple, was clouded and mysterious, the future a haze and the present equally obscure. The Jedi Council had presumed the trouble was lying beneath the surface, when it was actually skin deep.

Obi-Wan had to contact his Master as soon as possible before he assumed, like Adi and Siri had on their previous visit to Douron, that everything was fine. The little boy still stared at Obi-Wan, the question in his eyes.

"I'm not sure why I'm here, Dedian." He replied, finishing off the last bites of the stale bread, not realizing how hungry he was. "But I came from my facilitation area."

_Wherever that is_, Obi-Wan thought, reprimanding himself for not taking note of that detail.

"Oh." Dedian smiled, looking over to the bassinette holding his sister. "Vhera likes it when you talk to her, even though she doesn't know Basic; my father told me that. But she can say my name, sometimes. When I give her milk, she does. She likes milk."

Obi-Wan only smiled at the boy, and asked, "When does your father come home?"

"Tonight. At dinner, he brings our soup for dinner, or sometimes bread. Or fruit."

_Tonight. That's too long to wait_. Obi-Wan sat up straighter and saw the reflection of his bloodied forehead in the transparasteel window to his left; despite his fervor for possible insight and answers that Dedian's father may tell him, he did not have time to waste. "I'll have to be going –"

"Are you sure?" Dedian queried, his face scrunching in subtle disappointment. "I . . . think you should stay."

Obi-Wan arose dizzily and staggered slightly, but regained his balance quickly. The little Seikh boy followed and arose in time with the Jedi, who strolled a bit uneasily toward the door, and heard Dedian's voice whisper, "Don't . . . don't leave. I'm here all alone."

Obi-Wan glanced back at him, and Dedian ran to his side and grabbed his hand around Obi-Wan's finger. "I don't want you to go."

Confused thoughts echoed through Obi-Wan's head at how sincere the boy sounded, how crushed he seemed of Obi-Wan's departure though the two had only just met.

He then remembered that the Seikh were an interdependent species; they naturally always needed someone to care for them and someone they could care for. Dedian was still a child, which added to his fear of losing his companion.

Obi-Wan sighed, "I . . . I can't, I have to leave."

Dedian rubbed tears from his eyes, "But . . . you don't know your way . . . I'll show you, I'll help you . . . don't leave me here all . . . all alone, all-" The little boy hiccupped and let out a sob.

"I can't take you away from your parents." Obi-Wan tried. "Or . . ."

He gestured towards the now sleeping infant. Dedian put in, ". . . Vhera."

"Or Vhera."

Dedian bit his thin lip, "My father doesn't come home until after dinner, but the Caregivers come to check on Vhera soon. I will show you where to find your facilitation area, and you can bring me home."

Obi-Wan knew Dedian would only be a helpless distraction, another dependent priority to have responsibility for. But Obi-Wan heard the words of his Master telling him to trust the Force for an answer, and the Force gestured yes.

"You can come," he said, "But-"

Dedian grabbed both his arms around the Jedi's leg, and Obi-Wan held the boy, baffled at his curious action. "Don't get too excited."

"What now?" The boy asked enthusiastically. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes; it hadn't even been two minutes, and he was already annoyed.

"Now, I have a call to make."

* * *

_Beep. Beep. Beep._ Siri stirred, her bed hard and rough, her body stiff. She blinked and searched her eyes around the large room she lay in, filled with crates of random supplies and racks of white coveralls and dresses. _Beep. Beep -_

Still confused, Siri twisted around and grabbed her comlink, sitting upright and answering, "Yes?"

"Siri? Are you alright?"

"Ah . . . " Siri wasn't sure. Force, she had no clue where she even was! "Who is this?"

"Obi-Wan, it's me Obi-Wan!" The voice was hushed but laced with concern, "Where are you?"

Siri looked about again, at the walls that seemed carved from stone - a deep ochre stone. She fingered the ground beneath her, a dusty residue left on them. _I'm underground . . . somewhere._ It seemed to be a storage area, being filled with Siekh clothes and supplies, and it was very quiet.

"I'm . . . I don't know - how did I get here?" Siri remembered, suddenly, that she did not remember, "Obi-Wan -"

"It's alright, Siri, don't get nervous. Remember the turbolift? The droid -"

"Haddon. That son of a gundark." Siri bit back a sharp curse, "He must have thought we were up to no good."

"So he drugged us for punishment?" Obi-Wan's tone was incredulous, "I'm in the facilitation areas; a few Watchmen found me in the 'lift, but I managed to evade them. Are you alone?"

"I think so. I have a bad feeling about this." Siri felt her disquietness swell, and she took a breath to ease the feeling. She usually felt the need to do things on her own, and an irritation to those who tried to do things for her. But being alone in the Facility brought unfamiliar feelings to her mind, the same unease that she had felt in her sleep, and the same she was feeling then. And she found herself desiring a comrade, as strange as it seemed.

Siri tuned herself in to the Force, reaching out to sense any movement or stirring. She closed her eyes, and felt the room around her, the items of food and clothing, permacrete and durasteel. And . . .

Something stirred. "Siri?"

"Shh . . . I'll call you back."

Siri paced slowly to a pile of tools, and found a droid, the same arrowhead droid, nervously hovering back and forth a few feet from the ground. It spun its red eye to face the Jedi, and let out an electronic, monotonous whine.

Siri quickly unsheathed her violet-white lightsaber and jabbed it toward the droid, "All I want is information; I don't want to destroy you, but I might have to if you don't cooperate."

The droid flashed its eye from red to blue, and twirped in uncertainty, its form trembling in fear of Siri's blade. A small, stick-like photoprojector opened from the apex of its surface, and sent out a skittering flash of blue. It projected the image of the Governor, standing resolute and irritated.

"Return to me when you receive information of the Jedi," Amos said, "And don't waste time. I –pect to re-ive a f-fu-ll re-por-..." The audio began to cut as the image blurred and disappeared from its spot on the dusty floor.

Siri suspected the Governor was only curious of the Jedi, inquisitive of who they were, and not in full comprehension of what they were doing. But the way he had sounded in the vidrecording wasn't much like curiosity, and Siri's Jedi senses told her not to suspect that it was. "Report back to the Governor," Siri said, "But you must erase information of the Jedi."

The droid bleeped a series of noises in defiance, not wanting to accept the Jedi's deal. Siri nudged her lightsaber closer to the droid, and it quickly got the message, swiftly hovering off into a small alcove, only leaving behind its tracks in the dust. Siri de-activated her lightsaber, exhaling slowly as she pondered where she was.

A symphony of clanging sounded from behind her, and Siri turned to find Adriyn Gain, maroon hair disheveled, arise from behind a stack of boxes.

"Adriyn?" She whispered hoarsely, "What are you doing-"

"Don't even ask," Adriyn exclaimed, picking himself up off the floor, "Because you don't know what you're doing here either."

"You _followed_ us?"

"You left first! I sensed you both were gone, and how was I to know where you were, if you were in danger or not? So, I went looking for you - the next thing I know, General Haddon -"

"_Haddon_ found you?" Siri asked, and Adriyn nodded.

"Yeah, so here's the good part: he sends me back to my room with his -"

"His droid?"

Adriyn wrinkled his brow, "How'd you know?"

"How did you think I got here? He must have drugged you too, and dumped us both here."

"Where's Obi then?" Adriyn rubbed his forehead, feigning exhaustion, "This doesn't make sense - we're the good guys! Why do we always end up like _this_?"

Siri closed her eyes, "I shouldn't have left in the first place. This is my fault."

"Well, we might as well not even bother blaming anyone, not until we get out of here." Adriyn grinned his typical awry smile, "Don't feel bad."

Siri nodded, "Alright."

"Where are we anyway?"

Siri shrugged, strolling hastily toward an aperture in the rutted stone walls, and looking out, Adriyn seeing over her shoulder. The area she saw was a dim and wide, and it seemed more like the belly of a cave than anything to Siri. The dome-like area was lined with the same uneven amber stone she saw around her. It was jutted randomly with bumps, cracks, and the occasional stalagmite and slowly dripped water from its many fissures.

_We must be underground, _she thought, an instant before Adriyn whispered hoarsely, "I think we're underground!"

The dome was quite large, and wide tunnels that lead into different areas lined the jagged walls; there had to be at least ten or twelve of them. The room was filled with Seikh citizens, all clothed in white garb smudged with dustings of the amber stone, strolling about, transporting wooden crates or etching away at the walls of the stone. Siri could sense the people's fatigue, and the unease struck her again. Reaching in her pocket, she pulled out her datapad.

"Navigate coordinates." She mumbled to the device.

[NAVIGATING . . . .]

The Facility map, that she had previously uploaded, lay out on the screen. The device beeped rhythmically as it processed, and a small red beacon flashed on her location.

[WORKING AREA]

"Needs of authorization?"

[UNKNOWN]

Siri tucked the pad away as she glanced through the window once more.

"Now what?" Adriyn implored, watching Siri as she turned toward a rack of white Seikh dresses and slipped one of the outfits over her tunic.

"Now we investigate." She uttered, walking over to Adriyn's side.

Adriyn groaned aloud, "What about me? I'm not bald!"

"Improvise!" Siri suggested, pulling the hood over her golden-blonde hair. She strolled calmly out the stone-carved door, Adriyn soon following, wishing for her feeling of independence to come back, and her unease to depart.


	10. Findings

**_Hey! So yeah, late update BUT! you'll be happy to see what's inside. Now I know if you've been following the story you know nothing's been revealed about Siri's child . . . well, due to some unsmart plotting :p I left out a very important part that explains it all. (silly me) All will be revealed in a flashback by Obi-Wan of a conversation unincluded that took place the night of Siri's confession (or chapter 3). I'm sorry if its confusing, but you'll probably be happy to read it anyway. Shoutouts to all my faithful reviewers JediKayKenobi + nineteenninteytwo :D okay, here it is..._**

* * *

Qui-Gon sat, in a very uncomfortable seat, in the private office of the Governor Amos, with many irritations on his mind. One: The Governor had issued a search for their Padawans courteously, though declining the suggestion to let the Jedi search themselves. Two: The Jedi had been trying despairingly hard to convince the Governor that he had to leave Douron because of the weapon threatening to destroy the Facility. But Amos' stiff attitude had deflected every reasonable suggestion against him.

So Qui-Gon sat, his ears ringing with the voice of the Governor and the sound of his own fingers drumming impatiently on the desk in front of him, and waited for Amos to listen to the Jedi's plea.

"You obviously don't understand Governor," Master Cla'isaid to Amos, standing left of the wooden desk, "The exceedingly hazardous atmospheric conditions of Douron are going to eventually leak into your Facility. You may think you are safe, but you aren't. Air is inevitable to breathe, and you will eventually breathe it. If you are exposed for ten minutes – ten minutes – to the air here, you will grow feverish and form a rash, begin to vomit blood and become delusional and in a matter of hours, you will die."

Gatham gave Amos an impatient stare. "By staying, you are not only endangering your own life butyour citizen's. There is no possible way to avoid an evacuation, and if you don't do it soon, you will be too late."

Amos, who sat behind the desk, folded his bluish-pale hands on his lap, his fierce twin hazel eyes scarcely blinking as he stared at Master Cla'i. "The Seikh are not concerned. Not even one of them are concerned. If they will perish, they are at peace with it. If it is their fate-"

"But it doesn't have to be!" Adi interrupted, seated aside Qui-Gon, "The Republic is willing to house and relocate your population until Douronis safe again, and then you may return. Do not let your people die because of your stubborn will."

"The Seikh aren't wanting to become involved in an evacuation-"

"Have you asked them? Have you even told them of this life-threatening oxygen that will kill them and their children?"

The Governor stood abruptly, causing his chair to screech, and the Jedi to cringe from the sound. He clenched his pale teeth and jutted his chin out in confidence. "They do not need to know, must I repeat myself, and they are not interested in an evacuation!"

Adi leaned closer to the desk, "Have you not even given them a right of decision-?"

The quarrel continued, passing itself back and forth from Adi to Amos, and occasionally Master Cla'i; Qui-Gon only observed, knowing in the Force that he was in no mood to squabble with such a man as Amos. Qui-Gon usually kept his centre of focus balanced in the Force, his mind virtually free of irritation and stress, but his impatience for Amos was interrupting his stability, and he felt his mental scale tilting slowly.

"Governor, please," Adi said, "we as Jedi only want these people to have a free right to live - "

"It is my decision as a ruler over them to decide their fate, and I am not changing my mindset!"

"Enough!" Qui-Gon shouted, rising swiftly and letting the group silence. He directed his gaze toward Amos. "If you and your obstinate, irrational attitude do not want to just contribute with us, then you succeed. If you do not want to see the sense in this conversation, fine. It is not my decision. I am not one to judge one, but if I were, you are being heartless letting your people die under your watch."

Qui-Gon was breathing heavily,"We are leaving as soon as our apprentices are found. I ask for your permission to let us."

Amos narrowed his hazel eyes, his azure skin almost red, and folded his hands behind his back. "I give you my consent. I hope that you Jedi will eventually learn you have no authority over me, nor any other freestanding government."

Qui-Gon stepped out from his chair, and nodded to the Governor, "And I hope that you will eventually come to your senses."

They left the office without another word, walking in silence. Qui-Gon could tell that Adi couldn't stand it, "Qui-Gon, you do know that we just let him succeed-"

"Did you notice that Amos addressed the Seikh as 'they', not 'we'?" Qui-Gon observed, "It seems to me that he plans on leaving before any contamination takes place. We are going to Thym-Lad-Borat to alert the Senate; his doings may be a felony."

"Then there's only one thing to do now," Master Cla'i stated.

The other Masters looked to him anxiously for his conclusion. Master Cla'is face upturned into a smile, "Find our Padawans."

* * *

As she stood in line with the other Seikh, Siri had little clue what exactly she was supposed to be doing. After entering the Working Area, she had managed to slip into a row of Siikh lined up facing the long tunnel of amber coloured rock unnoticed. Adriyn, who ended up disguising in a dark green Watchman's uniform, had snuck past security and was "keeping watch" outside of a tunnel.

Though the Working Area was filled with many prying eyes, she had only received a dubious glare from the Seikh male to her left as she entered her row, and she had tried her best to look natural.

Siri watched the Seikh around her, scraping and etching at the stone with a small durasteel chisel, the residue leaving an ocher dusting on their pale garments.

The sound of a furnace rumbled below them, occasionally sending down a gust of scorching air through the vents above their heads. Siri felt another pair of eyes staring at her, and she glanced to her right at the Siikh beside her, who was examining her, puzzled.

"Are you new on this level?" the young woman asked, her accent distinctly Douronian.

Siri's face was shaded by her oversized hood, and she didn't know if the woman recognized her as a Seikh. "Yes," she replied, softly.

The female laughed tenderly, "Your accent gives you away; you are not a Siikh, are you?"

Siri knew there was no avoiding the truth in the matter, and trying to cover herself up was of no use. "You are more observant than I thought. I'm a Jedi Knight, on a mission from Coruscant; I advise you not to spread it around."

The woman's soft features changed into a smile, her gentle brown eyes lighting up with reverence, "A Jedi Knight; it is a pleasure. My name is Milcah."

"Siri Tachi," Siri replied, partially smiling at her. Milcah held Siri's gaze, a wonder in her eyes that she couldn't quite grasp. She seemed very young, maybe younger than Siri, but she radiated with a sort of wisdom that even ones beyond her age did not exert.

The woman grinned at Siri once again, before turning back to the stone in front of her. "You are young. A learner?"

She nodded, "An apprentice."

"Are you wed?"

Siri did not take the question in offence, knowing the Seikh cultures, "No. Jedi do not marry."

Milcah looked to her in apology, whispering, "I saw that you were with child, and I assumed. I apologize, mistress."

"You . . . can tell?" Siri felt her heart race, suddenly self-conscious. She had been sure ever since she began showing to conceal herself, and she had supposed the loose fitting Seikh dress covered her enough.

The young girl smiled softly in reassurance, "You only show a little, enough for a woman to tell. You are radiant, mistress. Just do get too close to the Watchmen. They will not be pleased to see you here."

Siri saw the Watchmen scattered about the Working Area, guarding the accesses and scanning the vicinity with their dark, watching eyes.

"They are constantly watching, inspecting our work." Milcah murmured.

"What work do you perform here?"

Milcah wiped her hands on her white garment before continuing, "There are three areas where types of work are accomplished. To our left, in another section, is the Cultivation Area, where our food supplies are grown; there is the Production Wing, to our right, where ships and speeders are built and sold, and this is the Harvesting Area, where I have always worked."

"Harvesting," Siri questioned, "of what are you harvesting?"

Milcah dug her slender fingers into the stone, carefully removed a small greenish-yellow rock and placed it delicately on her open palm.

Siri felt her mind race at a momentum faster than she could comprehend as she realized quickly what that small stone was. It was identical to the one she had seen in the Jedi laboratory, shimmering with the similar emerald lustre and emanating the same foreign pulse in the Force. It was Radian.

"Milcah," Siri whispered coarsely, trying to arrange information in her racing mind, "Do you know what this is?"

Milcah's face kept its regular calm, and she replied, "This is Cytainium, used as currency in the markets; its value is immeasurable, though most say it is only worth fifty dataries a piece - "

"Does your government know about this trading?"

Milcah shrugged, "Only a few do the trading, and I have never been in the markets before; why do you ask, mistress?"

"This mineral is illegal," Siri explained, "extremely illegal. You are being deceived."

"Oh no mistress, you must be mistaken. . ." The woman could not find words to say, puzzled at the startling comment.

Siri tried to center Milcah's wandering gaze, "Unless I am mistaken, this is Radian-"

Micah shook her head once more, strolling out of the tunnel into the open dome of the area. Siri reprimanded herself for being so blunt as she caught up to Milcah's pace.

"Milcah," Siri started, "you shouldn't - "

"Mistress, I . . . I cannot get caught up with the matters of the Jedi . . ."

"It is part of my mission to try to uncover as much information as I can." Siri said, blocking Milcah's way to the exit, "Your interference with my mission is the least of my problems."

Milcah's face was drawn in anxiety, but she nodded and grabbed Siri's hand, pulling her away from the door and into a corner, shrouded by shadows. "I have known about this for years now. I expect that many know; all are too cautious to act upon it. As I said, any rebellious activity is chastised horribly."

"Have you tried to contact the Republic? Authorities?" Siri found it hard to rationalize hiding such a secret, "The Jedi even?"

"Many Jedi have came before you, yes. Years ago."

Siri wrinkled her brow, "Who were they?"

"I do not know, mistress." Milcah lowered her voice even more, "They all perished here."

Siri bit her lip; something was not right. The Archives had not said anything about The Seikh Facility being investigated by the Jedi before, especially not anything about casualties. The Council, if they had known, had not seemed to inclined to mention it. Siri felt a smouldering frustration inside her,_ This is someone's fault. _

She glanced out from beneath her hood, her eyes seizing Adriyn's gaze from across the bustle of people in the dome and she gestured him toward her. Milcah was startled by the appearance of the young man, but Adriyn assured her with a nod that he was not to harm her.

"What's the deal?" he questioned, olive eyes wide and attentive.

Siri whispered to him only, "This 'Working Area' is more so a spice harvesting area - "

"Spice?" Adriyn exclaimed, incredulously. "You sure?"

"Positive."

"No wonder Amos didn't show us this place. I was beginning to wonder what in the galaxy it would be for."

"The Governor must be behind this. With his former bounty hunter status and a mine full of spice being harvested beneath his feet, it's obvious why he doesn't want to evacuate." Siri folded her arms, "His entire plan will be busted."

"He's collecting spice, storing his profits away from prying eyes," Adriyn looked to Siri with a scowl, "and making the citizens do the dirty work. And why did this go unnoticed?"

Adriyn gave her a dirty look, and Siri gave him one back, "Don't start pointing fingers, Gain. We aren't the first Jedi to be here; according to Milcah," Siri motioned an arm toward the Seikh female, "We're just some of many to have come . . . and never left."

Adriyn understood the implication, "This mission is apparently not as routine as anticipated."

"Apparently." Siri quickly made a decision, "Milcah has agreed to show us where the spice is being stored."

Milcah instantly shook her head, her brown eyes distressed. "Mistress, I don't have authorization."

"Neither do I."

Siri turned her eyes toward Adriyn who furrowed his brow; when he finally came to realization, his eyebrows shot up. "Oh."

* * *

"_There is no father."_

_Obi-Wan did not allowed breath in his throat, maybe in fear if it escaping in a protesting cry. He turned to see her clear gaze. He blinked, waiting for her to retract the statement, though inside he knew nothing had been spoken out of place._

_He struggled to form words, and was surprised to hear his voice come out so clearly when inside he was so confused, "You . . . was it, I mean, did it happen . . . out of love? Out of love, as in not in love, meaning . . . forcefully?"_

_"Forcefully?" Siri seemed disgusted by the word, "I would never let any one do that to me."_

_"I didn't think you would." Obi-Wan ran a hand along his head, down his neck where he rubbed, "But . . . what did you say?"_

_"There is no father. I've been with no one."_

_Siri's gaze froze Obi-Wan again. Did she truly expect him to believe her? First, nothing but a farewell note, and now an excuse a youngling could see through? _Does she think I'm that blind?

_"Who is he?" Obi-Wan asked, and Siri closed her eyes, "Who? I want to know who it was -"_

_"No one! Can't you hear me?_ _My child was conceived by no man. No one even touched me." Siri reached out and grabbed Obi-Wan's hand, placing it upon her abdomen._

_"What?"_

_"Reach into the Force." Siri whispered. "I'm not lying."_

_Obi-Wan stared at her for a split-second before using the Force and focusing his energy on reaching into Siri. He felt his mind unwind as he probed deep into her uterus, and he paused, astonished, as he felt the life of Siri's tiny infant. _

_He lingered there for a moment, soaking in the stillness and tranquility, letting it fill him, letting it release his array of emotions. And he sensed the essence of Siri's cells . . . but not many of another. Not enough of another. He only felt the sensation of an unfamiliar substance; cells and molecules that were not recognizable to him, and could easily belong to any humanoid man. _

_But why there were so few of them, he didn't know; it was abnormal, possibly a random imperfection or evidence to Siri's mysterious and questionable plea. Obi-Wan slowly re-opened his eyes, and it was a long while before he spoke._

_"What happened?" he whispered._

_Siri whispered, "I found a specimen of Radian on Douron –"_

_"Radian? Siri, you could have killed yourself!" He was upset only out of concern._

_"I influenced it with the Force . . . I know this makes no sense, but I'm sure it was that Radian." _

_"The . . . Radian? That's –"_

_"Impossible." _

_Obi-Wan sighed, not looking to her as he was thinking aloud, "I know you know that an element can't create life, even with the help of the Force, or at least we don't know of one that can. Something that complex would require years of advanced scientific research, and even a first prototype would have to be refined multiple times before –"_

_"You sound just like the lab droid." Siri interrupted his spout of facts, and Obi-Wan heard the staleness in her tone, perturbed by his lack of sympathy. He realized she had probably heard the explanation before, and probably gone through it herself too many times to count. She wasn't looking for an answer from him, but a confide._

_"I know it doesn't sound logical, but not everything is Obi-Wan. I've been through trying to explain it, and I can't. I know it doesn't make sense, and it sounds like I'm making this up to save my reputation, but I'm not."_

_Through the Force Obi-Wan could barely tell if she was confessing or contradicting the truth. His head ached, hating this situation altogether._

_"I haven't told anyone else . . . I don't trust anyone else." Siri shook her head, as if to try to shake away the grief in her voice._

_"And that's why you don't want to go to Douron . . . ."_

_"I don't want anything else to happen . . . I don't like it there. But I, refusing to go, will make my Master suspicious, and worsen things further – if they can get any worse. I can't go back."_

_"What are you going to do?" Obi-Wan questioned. Slow, quite breaths filled the room. Siri closed her eyes, and he sensed her emotion instantly. She's scared, Obi-Wan mused wretchedly, why wouldn't she be?_

_"I'm going to hope no one else finds out." Siri choked on her last word, as a sob crept up her throat. _

_"It's all right," Obi-Wan soothed, trying to console her gently. He placed his hand tenderly on her back, and almost felt the tension that had grown between them melt; he could feel her trust him again -_

* * *

_"_Jedi?" A little voice asked. "You okay?"

Obi-Wan looked to the Siekh boy Dedian who glanced up at him concernedly, releasing his mind out of the memory. "I'm alright."

"Bad dreams?" Dedian asked, but the Padawan shook his head.

"Just memories, young one. Sad memories."

They sat together in the middle of his Master's empty fac area, waiting hopefully for the Masters to return. Obi-Wan had tried calling with no answer, and the com link had not buzzed with calls from Siri, nor had he sensed anything to indicate Qui-Gon was near. They were in no danger at the moment, though the sounds of footsteps were increasing as they spoke, so they had decided to wait, the little boy resting and him meditating.

Obi-Wan watched the boy absentmindedly, seeing him count the rivets in the floor with childish concentration. He tried to imagine Siri's child, but the image hurt, memories joining it. The memory of that night with Siri at the Temple had returned to him during his alert meditation, and Obi-Wan hadn't stopped it. Despite their mission, he could not ignore the truth of Siri's dilemma like she could.

_How can she tell the Jedi Council that she, all of a sudden, conceived a child? How can she tell them she's pregnant at all?_

Obi-Wan felt a pang of sympathetic guilt, knowing how _he_ should have told the Council, but also knowing that they would never believe such a story. He could end up being wound around the scandal, and that would be even worse than not telling – or would it? Could he protect Siri from a scandal by stepping up and saying he was the father? Could she be accepted by it, saved from being expelled? Or would they both be outcast and become a disgrace?

Noises cut the thought at the root, the Padawan listening until they faded. Watchmen were hunting more persistently, hastily, for a reason Obi-Wan still did not know. He looked to the child again, thoughts driven back to the trouble on his heart.

"It's not like I don't already _feel_ like the father." He mused to himself softly, a stab of jealousy hitting him as he finished, "But I'm not. Someone else is."

"You are not a father?" Dedian piped in, Obi-Wan startled by his awareness, "You have no offspring?"

"No, I don't. The Jedi do not have any. We do not marry. It is forbidden." Obi-Wan knew the Seikh culture married early, and being eighteen it would be expected of him.

"But you said you feel like a father." Debian pointed out, blue eyes watching the Jedi.

Obi-Wan nodded, "It's complicated - "

Footsteps clamoured outside the door loudly, a great many off them by the duration of noise, and Dedian ran to Obi-Wan in fear. Obi-Wan gritted his teeth, knowing they couldn't hide anymore.

"Do you know the facility well?" Obi-Wan asked the boy urgently, and Dedian nodded.

"I know perfect hiding spots. I know the whole place."

Without another word, Obi-Wan rose and helped Dedian onto his back, waiting for the noise to quiet before sneaking out of the facilitation area, and away to another hiding place. For not the first time, he was tired of hiding.


End file.
